Fractured
by OddCoupler222
Summary: When bones fracture, they have to go through three stages before they really heal. They need to react, repair, and remodel, and it takes time. Not taking the time for these steps means that the fracture will never really go away. Arizona didn't take the time to properly heal; she skipped steps. In order to fix her life, she had to re-break it and heal correctly. Post 9x24
1. Who I Was Raised To Be

She couldn't believe she was sitting here in a support group. Support groups were for drug addicts or alcoholics or... people that just weren't her.

"Arizona, do you have anything you want to say?" the short, slightly chubby woman with curly brown hair looked at her with a soft smile on her face. Prompting her. Encouraging her. "An introduction, maybe?"

She simply returned the smile, and looked around the group of people all sitting in a circle. Everyone here had a prosthetic, some an arm, some a leg. Some two arms, or two legs. It was a group meeting that she'd had recommended to her months ago, before she'd even gone back to work, but she had refused. And yet, here she was, over a year after the place crash, sitting in on a group meeting for people with prosthetic limbs. She never would have fathomed that this would be her life.

Then again, she never would have believed the last two months – no, the entire last year – would be a part of her life, either. But sitting here, with these people, who were all so… open about their experiences with losing a limb – or two – made her want to just get up and leave. She didn't need to be here, didn't need a _support group_.

Except, she did. She needed this, because she needed something to try, in an attempt to fix her life. Her life that she'd been leading for the last two months as if she was a shell of her former self. Maybe even living as a shell for the last year. Ever since she lost her leg.

The only reason she was only at this group was because of her therapist's, Dr. Walker's, instruction. This had been her assigned "homework" for the next week, before their next appointment, to go to the first support group meeting for people who have lost a limb.

That was their main activity that they'd developed since she'd started seeing her a month and a half ago. Dr. Walker practiced what she called self-directed therapy, wherein Arizona would make up her own goals to accomplish every week. Or Walker would make suggestions and she would pick and choose or tweak them as she so chose. As long as she did something different, made some progress for their next scheduled weekly session, then she completed the goal.

Their appointment was tomorrow, so she had put this off until literally the last minute. But she thought – no, she knew, that it was time now.

The last session she had had was six days ago. She had taken to going to see Dr. Walker once a week, every Thursday evening unless an emergency surgery came in and couldn't be rescheduled.

When she had first started her therapy sessions, she had trouble saying anything to Walker. While the older, petite woman stared at her with a shrewd gaze she had stared back, teeth clenched, and answered most questions with very short answers, until Walker had eventually told her, "You know, Arizona… you do not have to stay here if you don't want to. You are here of your own will, and you are free to walk out the door any time you want."

"I don't want to," the words had bubbled out of her quickly, and she found that she was annoyed that her therapist was suggesting that she leave the office. "I came here for a reason."

That seemed to spark Dr. Walker's interest, and she had leaned back in her chair, hands folded, "Then why don't you tell me what that reason is?"

Her mouth had opened and all that could come out was a shattered breath, because how could she explain the crap show her life was in just one statement? But as those laser sharp eyes stared at her, she found that it was easier to say than she would have thought, "I – I was in a plane crash. My leg… it had to… my _wife_ made the decision to cut it off. And the father of my daughter died, and I cheated on my wife. God, I cheated on my wife. And now I don't have her and my daughter doesn't live with me anymore, because they left a week ago, and our apartment is so – quiet. So quiet. And… I came here because… it's so quiet," she finished in a whisper, her throat feeling weirdly tight.

Walker had lifted her eyebrows, looking at her with appreciation. For once, since word of her adultery and how she'd treated Callie, someone wasn't looking at her with any judgment or anger. There was a simple acceptance to her words that relieved her. Karev, he hadn't judged her. But he had, the week after everything had happened, after he found out about what she had said to Callie about her leg, yelled at her, too.

She deserved it.

But no matter how much she knew she deserved the judgment, it didn't make it easier to deal with. So seeing this woman nod her head and just respond with, "It sounds like you've been through quite a bit," made her feel better. "Why don't we start with the beginning of what you said. You were in a plane crash…"

So that was how they started. They had had six sessions together so far, and they had talked through every aspect of the crash that she could think of. Talking about things that she couldn't say to anyone, not since it happened. But once the lid had been taken off, everything came out. It helped her a lot more than she'd thought it would, just saying... everything about how everyone's cries had circled in her ears. The way she'd seen Mark's eyes close and she knew that it was going to be so bad. It was about _her_ experiences in the crash, and it actually felt so much better than she would have thought to just talk about what she had been through. Seen. Heard. Felt. Without having to worry about anyone else's reactions.

It wasn't until this past session, that sixth one, that Dr. Walker had finally brought up Callie as a main topic.

* * *

"You told me last time that you yelled at Callie after she found out about you and Dr. Boswell, because she cut off your leg," Walker had started her off, waiting for her to continue where they had left off.

Thinking about that night, that awful night with the storm when everything had exploded between them, still made her feel nauseous, two months later, "I… yes." Her eyebrows furrowed, and she looked down at her lap, remembering what she had said to Callie and how the truth and the resentment of actually saying the words out loud felt like it had burned her, and she shook her head, "I don't… I don't think I'm ready to talk about the why, yet. I don't think I can."

Dr. Walker nodded and left it at that, "All right, we'll talk about the reasons why when you're ready. What did Callie say, after that first fight you two had?"

She closed her eyes, thinking back. After those words had been ripped raw from Callie's mouth, _"Apparently, I lost you_," the Latina had left the room, leaving her words to bounce off the walls. And Arizona hadn't known what to do or say in response to those words. Of course Callie had lost her, because she had lost herself. But, she didn't want Callie to leave her behind, to lose her. She'd been spending the last year trying her hardest to make it so she and Callie could _find_ her.

Clearing her throat, she focused her eyes on the desk in front of her, "The next time I saw her, she was packing her suitcase. Not her overnight one, but her big one." She didn't know why she felt it necessary to add in that detail, but she just felt like it had to be said because that huge black suitcase, open on the bed, filled with clothes was burned into her memory. "It was the day after she found out… the day after _it_ happened. We finally were able to go home. We usually went home together."

_But not that day. That day, she'd gone home alone after checking in to the daycare and seeing that Callie had already picked up Sofia. She had then felt this utter sense of dread. In the back of her mind… well, she didn't really know what she was thinking or feeling, if she was being honest with herself. _

_As she'd gone down the hallway to their apartment, that dread grew heavier. Sofia was sitting, still dressed in her jacket, with a sippy cup, on the couch, watching television. As quickly as she could go, her hands shaking, she'd entered their bedroom. And there was that suitcase, that was rapidly being filled. _

_Callie had looked up, her eyes red rimmed and shining in tears, but her expression so… angry and hurt, "You trusted me to make sure you kept your leg, Arizona, but I had to trust myself to keep you alive. That was my priority. My priority was to make sure that my daughter still had her mother at the end of the day. Do you think Sofia cares about having a mother with one leg? No, she cares that she has her mama. Or – or does that not matter to you anymore?" _

_As she'd spoken, her hands moved, filling the suitcase with as many items as she could get her hands on, and Arizona could see from the already packed stuff that there were brightly colored, small clothes – Sofia's clothes, and her heart seemed to kick start into panic, "I – of course. Sofia is…" she was sometimes all that mattered. During the times where she hated Callie, hated herself, Sofia was what made her get out of bed in the morning. Her eyes latched onto those clothes, "You can't take her away." _

_She didn't have legal rights, the thought ran through her head. No legal rights to her daughter, because after Mark had died, neither of them had been in the right mind set to think about that. Callie flipped the suitcase closed and her hands rested on the top, tightly closed, "I am. For the night. I lost you," her voice dropped to barely above a breath, "But she's not going to."_

_Stepping closer into the room, her breath erratic, she shook her head, "No. You didn't lose me," they were words she didn't even know if she believed, but all of the sudden, the world narrowed to right now, right in this bedroom and there was no hospital, no surgeries, no amputated limbs, no Lauren Boswell. It was only Callie, and seeing her so resolutely zippering that bag closed was terrifying, "Don't. Don't go. You… lost. We're lost, but we can work on it."_

_Could they? Callie seemed to think the same, as she stood up straight, gripping the suitcase and pulling it off the bed, "What is there to work on? You look at me and all you see is a woman who cut off your leg. Y-you aren't happy with me. I don't make you happy, so why should we work on it? You've been trying for a year to forgive me and you obviously can't."_

_What she was saying was true; Arizona did have times where she looked at Callie and didn't feel anything except for contempt, but then there were times where she looked at her and all she felt was love. She didn't know how those emotions could tie together in such a tangled mess, but they did. _

_Sometimes she didn't know which feeling was stronger, but now that the impending threat of Callie leaving, seeing Callie packing her bag, she knew. And she suddenly couldn't stand to watch her leave. Heart in throat, she shook her head, "But I – we can work on it. Couples therapy or –"_

_Callie's choked laugh cut her off, "You want to try couples therapy, now? I tried to get you to go for months. And now…" she hiccuped, using her palms to wipe down her face, trying to dry the tears that were falling, "Maybe it hasn't occurred to you, Arizona, but even though I'm not allowed to have feelings about the plane crash, I definitely have feelings about you sleeping with another woman. I don't know if I can get over that. You weren't George. And you weren't Erica. You were so much more, and I don't think…" she just shook her head, "I just have to go."_

"And so… she went," she recounted, drawing in a deep breath and closing her eyes for just a few seconds.

She had thought she was at her unhappiest a year before that, when she had to live with knowing that her wife was the one who had cut off her leg. But the resounding silence she was left with as the door to their apartment closed, knowing that she was all alone now… her daughter wasn't playing in her room. There were no giggling sounds or playing sounds. And there was certainly no Callie sounds. And the complete, and utter aloneness that she felt was the worst feeling she'd ever had. That was why she'd started coming to therapy, because she just couldn't _handle_ that solitude, that isolation.

There was something in her tone that made Dr. Walker take everything in and nod, asking, "And what about the divorce papers?"

She thought of the legal file that sat in the top drawer of her dresser, and sat up just a little straighter as she played with the fabric of her pants, "What about them?"

Walker folded her hands on her desk and simply shrugged, "Have you made any decisions? Have you signed them? Have you talked to Callie about them?"

Drawing in a deep breath, her posture crumpled, and she answered with one word, "No."

They were all neatly drawn up, and Callie had given them to her a month ago, which was also a month after she'd left. Callie's signature wasn't on them, either. She had said that she wanted both of them to think about it and that they would revisit the decision… sometime. Though that time hadn't happened yet.

For which she was grateful, because she didn't know what she wanted to do about them, "I don't know. Sometimes I miss Callie so much I can't breathe. Sometimes I just… don't know."

"And that's okay, Arizona. Life is messy. Emotions are complicated. Everything doesn't fit into a nice little box," Dr. Walker reminded her. It was something they'd talked about several times before in their sessions.

She was coming to accept it, but she didn't like it. At the very least, she wanted to be able to control her emotions. Then again, wasn't that was had gotten her into this whole mess in the first place? Her eyes drifted to her leg, which she was tapping her fingers against. No, _this_ was what had gotten her into this mess in the first place. This fucking leg. In her time with Dr. Walker, she'd made a lot of headway with this leg and in coming to accept it. But there were still times…

Their time was coming to a close, and she knew it because Walker sat back in her chair, and had proposed some options for what her goal should be for this week. She'd offered out talking to Callie, an actual conversation which the two of them really hadn't had in… so long, or going to a support group meeting to help her farther come to terms with her leg.

The idea of sitting down and looking into brown eyes that she hadn't _really_ looked in to in two months both scared and thrilled her. The idea of trying to actually talk about their very real problems made her feel the same way. And the sheer strength of those emotions were overwhelming, so she leaned forward to take the pamphlet off of Walker's desk, "I'll go to the meeting."

* * *

And that was how she ended up here, at her first meeting for this group for people with prosthetic limbs, which met at Seattle Presbyterian. When the group had first been offered to her, it was right after she'd gotten back from the crash. Right after the amputation. And when she'd received pamphlets, she had immediately thrown them away, because in her mind, support groups were for weak people. That was the mentality she had been raised to have. The mentality on the military bases on which she had grown up on was not to show weakness.

And Arizona was not weak. Even with only one leg, she _was not_ weak.

Yet, she had cheated on her wife. She had cheated on Callie and then had not fought for her to stay in their home, together, even though she hadn't wanted Callie to leave. Inside she had been begging her to stay, but on the outside, she just watched the door close behind her.

She cheated on her wife because of an overwhelming bitterness she she'd tried to repress so much that she didn't even realize she'd been harboring it. Then she turned around and yelled at Callie, practically blaming her for her own adultery. _That_ was weak. _That_ was not Arizona Robbins. _She_ was not Arizona Robbins.

The very first assignment she had completed after her first session with Dr. Walker was to create a metaphor as to why she had decided to start coming to therapy. She had resisted against doing a stupid "homework" assignment; she wasn't in high school. And because of her resistance, she put it off for almost the whole week and then struggled to come up with one. She was there because of… her life. What was metaphoric about that?

But she'd come up with one eventually, thinking about her life. About bones, and Callie, and losing control: When bones are fractured, the healing process has to go through stages before things go back to normal. They have to react, repair, and then remodel, and if any one of those steps goes awry, then there's a high chance of infection or contamination. And if that happens, the bones won't knit back together and work correctly. And then the only way to fix that bone that didn't heal properly, is to re-break and start over.

In the last two months, Arizona had been re-broken and started over. Fractures can heal improperly, but be hidden until, one day, you realize that it's not healed correctly. It can be set on by an event or just out of nowhere. And her event, her out of nowhere, came from Dr. Lauren Boswell. The plane crash had broken her, and then she'd been so mad at Callie… she'd thought months ago that if she just kept telling herself that she was the same Arizona, that nothing was different, then things would go back to the way they were before.

It took until a year later for her to realize that she hadn't healed properly.

And it took another two months after that for the big glowing sign in the form of her toddler daughter to show her that she needed to make changes in her life and start to heal again. She didn't know if she would get back to being the same Arizona Robbins she was before the crash, because she was sure that that woman was gone. But she knew for damn sure that she didn't want to be this woman, this Arizona Robbins who didn't know what she wanted, to be the role model for her daughter.

But she didn't say that to her group. Instead, she looked at all of their faces, all of them softly smiling at her, and she felt… different. She felt like the odd one out, because she was. And no matter what might have changed in her life, she still didn't feel like she wanted to be so forthcoming about all of her failures, not right away. Regardless of whether or not these people could understand.

Never before in her life had she felt nervous simply speaking on front of people, yet, here she was. In her mid-thirties and she was still discovering that there was a first time for everything.

"My name is Arizona. I'm a pediatric surgeon at Sloan-Grey Memorial Hospital. The head of Pediatric surgery, actually, and…" she trailed off, unsure of where to go from there. The woman leading the group not-so-subtly looked down at her leg in a hint, and Arizona nodded, interlocking her fingers together in her lap, "Right. I lost my leg last year, just over a year ago, in a plane crash."

Sherry, Arizona finally remembered her name was, gave her a smile that she felt like she gave Sofia after she sang the alphabet correctly, and she didn't particularly care for it, "Thank you for letting us know that, Arizona. Does anyone have anything they would like to say to our new group member?"

Blue eye scanned around the circle, relieved to see no sympathetic faces. Then again, why would she be getting them, when these people had gone through the loss of a limb and possibly some moments of crisis in their lives the way that she had?

She paused on one man, who had a prosthetic arm, who raised his non-prosthetic hand to speak, before lowering it. He cleared his throat, "I have a question. If you lost your leg a year ago why are you just coming here now?"

"I, um…" she trailed off, looking at her lap. Sofia's face flashed in front of her mind's eye, then Callie's face. Her leg. Flashes of her life before the crash, and then from afterwards, and from two months ago.

Instinctively, she wanted to bury that truth. Instinctively, she wanted to simply say that she was here because her therapist recommended it to her, and that was it. However, it was that therapy and the changes it had already made in her life that she forced herself to look back up, "I was raised to be a good man in a storm, and I've lost that. I want to go back."

And she hoped this would be a way to help her do that, to go back to that. For a few seconds, everyone was quiet, before a girl – a teenage girl, she thought, or someone who looked extremely young – spoke, "Does it bother you that the phrase that everyone uses is "lost your leg"? Like, doesn't that imply that you can find it somewhere? Oh, you lost your leg? Have you looked under the bed yet?"

A laugh bubbled up from inside her before she thought about stopping it. No one joked about her only having one leg – no one in her real life, anyway – and for some reason it made her feel lighter.

So, she couldn't believe she was here in a support group, but in the series of firsts that had happened recently, this was one that was for the best. She'd thought therapy with Dr. Walker would be pointless, but it wasn't. Maybe this would be the same.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think! All feedback is welcome and appreciated. Thank you so much for reading!  
**


	2. Not Broken

"How was the support group? Did you go again this week?" Dr. Walker asked, looking at Arizona over her glasses.

Bouncing her heel against the floor, her hands interlocking with each other in front of her. She thought about the second group meeting she went to a few days ago, "Yes."

The therapist merely raised an eyebrow at her, "Is there something else you would rather talk about? You look like you're a little distracted."

Her hands squeezed together tightly and she bit at her bottom lip, just for a second, before looking up, "I, um, I talked to Callie, yesterday. When she came to pick up Sofia."

Walker's nodded and leaned forward, "How did it go?"

Lifting her hand, she bit onto the side of her thumbnail before she realized what she was doing and immediately lowered her hand; she hadn't bit at her nails since high school. "It was fine. It – it was good, actually. Short, though. Nothing really impressive," she finished, and she felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment over being proud of managing to have a very small, inconsequential conversation with the woman she had once told everything to.

"Small steps, though, right?" Dr. Walker said with a slight, encouraging smile, "Progress doesn't come in leaps and bounds, most of the time. It happens slowly."

It was another thing that they had talked extensively about. She knew that was the truth; no real problems got fixed quickly and easily. It took time. Again, it wasn't something she liked, but it was something she needed to accept. Letting out a small sigh, she nodded, "I know."

"Do you want to tell me about it? You said she was coming to pick up Sofia?" the therapist prompted, sitting back in her chair.

* * *

Her daughter was walking back and forth between the plastic play kitchen set to where Arizona sat on the floor, leg under the short, pink plastic table, poking through to the other side. Sofia had "set the table" for the two of them and was now "fixing dinner" while wearing her hair up in a bright pink clip.

It was Wednesday, the Sofia switch day, as she had come to start thinking about it. In the last two months, her life seemed to be divided and thought of in different terms than she had ever really thought it would. Instead of living simply by the days of the week and by her work schedule within those days – just simply living life – now it was different. Now there were her favorite days of the week, her Sofia days – Mondays, Tuesdays, and then Wednesdays for a few hours after work. And her least favorite days of the week, her non-Sofia days – Wednesdays after Callie got out of work and came to pick her up, a little before dinner time. Callie had her Wednesday night, Thursday, and Friday. They alternated weekends.

_The first few days after Callie had been gone, meaning her daughter was, too, had been so… hard. So incredibly hard that she didn't really think "hard" was accurate enough a word. After the crash, the first time her life had fallen apart, Sofia was what made her able to keep living. And without having her there now was nearly unbearable._

_On the first day – the day right after they had left – she had gone to the daycare to see Sofia only to see that Callie hadn't come in that day, and subsequently, her daughter wasn't in the daycare, either. The next day, Callie wasn't scheduled, so neither of them came in, again. On the third day, she checked the schedule to make sure she would be at the daycare right after Callie's shift would start. She didn't know what she would – could – say to her wife. She still didn't know what she was thinking or feeling and everything was a mess._

_What she knew for certain was that she needed to see her daughter. With a hurried smile in response to the daycare worker's, "Good morning Dr. Robbins," she sought out the coloring table, which was where Sofia was bound to be._

_And she was. Her heart felt slightly less constricted and the knots that had been tied in her stomach for days loosened as she saw one of her daughters little hands grip a crayon in her fist and scribble on a page. When she got closer, those dark eyes looked up and a smile lit them up, the crayon fast falling from her hand, "Mama!"_

_Her own face broke out into the first smile she'd been able to manage in days, "Hi big girl!" In a move she had managed to master with her prosthetic a few months ago, she bent to scoop the toddler into her arms, relishing in the way small hands pressed against the back of her neck in the way her daughter hugged back. _

_She knew she held for longer than Sofia liked when the bottom she was supporting with one of her arms started to wiggle. Even so, she took just one more breath, inhaling her smell, before pulling back. Little fingers reached out and tangled in the hair that was sprawled over her shoulder, "I miss you, mama."_

_It was as though the words triggered a response in her tear ducts, and she had to close her eyes to keep her daughter from seeing them, "I've missed you, too. Have you been having fun with Mami?"_

"_We went to the park!" she answered enthusiastically._

_After a deep breath, she opened her eyes again, and her heart skipped a beat in surprise, when Callie was standing a few feet away. She didn't look how she usually looked after a day off; she looked tired and worn. Her breath caught in her throat for a second and she had to clear it before she could say, "I, um, I missed Sof."_

_Her wife's voice was low and she nodded, "I figured you would. I just wanted to tell you," she took a deep breath, "You can take her home tonight, if you want."_

_She closed her eyes again, whispering, "Thank you. Are you –" she started out tentatively, but she cut herself off because she didn't know how to ask if Callie was going to come home tonight, too. _

_But she didn't have to finish her statement, because Callie vehemently shook her head, "No. This… is for Sofia's benefit only. I'm – I'm not okay, with you or us and I can't," her eyes rolled upwards as she took a deep breath, mindful to stay calm because of where they were, "Whatever is going on with us, Sofia has been through enough. I feel like we can both agree on that."_

_They could both agree on that. The toddler had just stopped crying for Mark a few months ago, and that was before she even really knew how to say daddy. _

"_What about after today?" when do you think you'll come home, were the words that echoed in her head, but they didn't come out._

_Callie's hands clenched tightly and she waited a few moments before saying, "We'll work something out." Her eyes moved to look at their daughter and Arizona told herself to look at Sofia too, but she couldn't stop staring. Her wife just looked so defeated and sad and the majority of her wanted to lift her hand and swipe back that dark hair behind her ear the way that she did when something was wrong, that always made Callie feel better. _

_And then there was a tiny part of her didn't feel bad, and then the rest of her hated that part and hated herself for feeling that way._

_Finally she made herself look at the toddler that was in her arms, as Callie's voice, low and hurt, said, "Whatever's best for Sofia."_

_She repeated the words quietly and wondered if what was best for Sofia would be what was best for them, too._

Her daughter walked toward her to deliver her some "food" she had just made, and then she simply stood next to her, moving her hands to gesture at the plastic plate, "Eat!"

Gamely, she picked up the miniature purple plastic fork and made a show of taking a big bite of the nonexistent food. Widening her eyes and dropping her mouth opened, she exclaimed, "This is amazing!" Lowering her brow and giving a suspicious look, she asked, "Did you become a chef since the last time you were here?"

"No!" her daughter squealed, clapping in delight. They were eye level, Arizona sitting on the floor, Sofia standing inches away. When she put the play fork down, after finishing her imaginary meal, the toddler asked, "Mama? What's for din?"

She reached out a hand to pat her daughter on the stomach, then bent her fingers to tickle her stomach, resulting in a transformation of those little features in to a beautiful smile, baby teeth on full display, and the most adorable giggle jumping into the air, before she smoothed her hand back down, "I don't know, baby girl. Your Mami is going to make you dinner tonight."

That smile she loved to see fell from her face, a pout forming, as Sofia huffed out, "Fine," and then turned away to go back to her kitchen, bringing Arizona's "dirty" plate to the small plastic sink, playing more slowly, clearly dejected.

It hurt her heart when Sofia looked so upset. But this was better than it had been last month, because at least Sofia understood now that nights at Mama's were different than nights at Mami's and she didn't constantly question why Mami wasn't there when Arizona was tucking her into bed. She didn't ask when Mami was coming home, because she now knew that Mami's home was not Mama's home.

So now, instead of confusion, she would just get this pout in a way that Arizona thought looked like her and move her eyebrows in a way that dug at her stomach how much she looked like Callie. It was the expression she was wearing right now. And one day, she thought, with a paradoxical mix of sadness and relief, her daughter wouldn't even wear so much as that expression on her face when she thought of how her mother's didn't live together anymore.

Pushing her hands out behind her she scooted herself back and reached for her prosthetic that she'd taken off at the beginning of playtime, "Speaking of your Mami, she's going to be here soon. You want to come out here and get your shoes on?"

Her daughter's chin stuck out in defiance, "No."

"Sofia," she said, her tone a warning.

Even though there was still that sour look on her face, the little girl pouted, "I do dishes," and she held up Arizona's play plate and fork.

She supposed that was what she got after spending so much time teaching Sofia to clean up after herself, "Fine, you finish cleaning and then you have to come out and get your shoes and coat on because your Mami is going to be here in a few minutes, all right?"

After getting a nod in response and fixing on her leg, she stood and made her way out to the living room, picking up the few items that had made their way out of her daughter's room, things like her stuffed animal that she had taken to carrying around with her everywhere in the last couple of months, and putting them into her backpack.

The knock on the door came just as Sofia was walking out of her room and she ran for the door, "I get it!"

She had already opened it screeched, "Mami!" before Arizona started in that direction, jacket, shoes, and backpack in hand.

Callie's smile was big and bright as she listened to Sofia's fast babble about all that she had done in the last few nights at Mama's house, nodding at appropriate times. It was the smile that Arizona believed at times had the ability to make the world a better place, and then as her estranged wife looked up, that smile dimmed. It was still there, but distant. The kind of smile you politely gave to a stranger, and it was the one Callie had been giving to her for the last month.

Seeing it never failed to make her stomach clench a little bit, kind of like she was being punched right in the gut. As Callie helped tie Sofia's shoelaces, she asked, "How was she?"

Handing her the light blue raincoat to slip over the toddler's shoulders, she answered, "A little fussy yesterday; she had a little trouble falling asleep last night. And her stomach was a little upset earlier, but it passed."

Callie nodded and that was it. That was the extent of their social interaction now; twice a week, when Callie would pick up Sofia or when she would pick her up from Callie's, their daughter was their only topic of conversation. Sofia, knowing the drill, lifted her hand up to wrap her hand around her Mami's fingers so they could walk out to the elevator.

Watching them walk away wasn't something that she ever liked, and more words that she wanted to say _always_ stuck in her throat. She didn't ever know what words they were or what exactly she wanted to communicate, but she knew that she always wanted more. And she didn't know what was different about this week, but before Callie could turn her back, the words rushed out of her, "I just wanted to ask…"

She trailed off, watching Callie pause. That was a good sign, she thought. Callie paused and didn't ignore her, and she was waiting for Arizona to continue. Searching for how to finish her sentence, she knew there was so much that _could_ be said, but none of that, none of what really mattered, would come out. Small steps, she told herself, and finished with, "… how was your surgery? I, um, I saw on the board that you had a laminectomy this afternoon."

That politely distant smile appeared on her mouth and Arizona thought maybe it was a little warmer than usual, and she nodded, "It went really well, thanks." Her response made Arizona's stomach jump just a little in excitement, and then she thought of how when they were _them_ Callie wouldn't have stopped at "it went well" but would tell her every juicy detail. Small. Steps. She repeated, and then that stomach jump came back again when Callie hesitated, then asked, "What about you? You had that kidney transplant on the newborn, right?"

Even though she knew that Callie could have found out this information without trying, a little part of her hoped that maybe she had purposefully sought out the information, "Yeah, it was really great, she's a little fighter."

"Good, I'm glad," she sounded like she really meant it, and then they fell into silence again for a few seconds before Callie looked over her shoulder, "We should get going."

* * *

Her embarrassment grew the more she thought about it, "I guess it might not even be called a "conversation" it was really just a short discussion, maybe."

Dr. Walker shook her head with a smile, "It was _progress_. You initiated conversation with Callie, beyond Sofia. That's the first step to bridging any other gaps. Maybe next time try to find another topic to bring up beforehand, take it a little longer."

She nodded and had to resist the urge to bite her thumbnail again, irritated that she was reverting back to her sixteen-year-old tendencies, "Right."

Walker narrowed her eyes a little bit, "You look like you have something else you want to say. Were you not happy after talking to Callie again?"

Immediately, she shook her head, "No. No, I liked talking to her." That was the truth, because sometimes at night she would lie in bed and close her eyes and just imagine Callie's voice.

Walker raised an eyebrow at her, "So what is it?"

Heaving a sigh, she bit at her cheek, "It was her eyes."

"What about them?" She asked, lacing her fingers together and leaning forward.

Looking down at her lap, she closed her eyes, "Callie… you can read her thoughts through her eyes. You can… you can know every feeling that she's feeling, just by one look. And the very last time we spoke, a month ago, those eyes…"

* * *

It had been a month since Callie left. They'd figured out Sofia's schedule two weeks ago, and last week word had gotten around that her wife had found her own apartment. Also two weeks they had finally tried to talk about the… about Boswell and about what Arizona had yelled in the aftermath. It did not go well, and they both walked away feeling raw and exposed and angry.

It had ended with Callie walking away, tears in her eyes, storming out of the apartment and slamming the door behind her, not looking back. And Arizona had been left extremely unsatisfied because there was so much more that she was feeling. So much more.

Not a word had been spoken between the two since, even through the surgery they had just co-performed on a six-year-old's shattered femur. Their rhythm had been so completely off, everyone had noticed it. Arizona even felt shaken, because no matter what fights they were having personally, surgery was something she'd always been able to count on.

Being the only two left in the scrub room, she looked at Callie out of the corner of her eye, who was scrubbing her hands fastly, furiously, trying to get away from her as soon as possible, Arizona thought.

Words tumbled out of her mouth quietly, before her wife could go anywhere, "We've always worked well together. Even before, when we had broken up in the past, we… we were always able to be in surgery together and work seamlessly." It was a sign that she'd always taken to mean that they were meant to be together.

Callie shut her water off and braced her hands against the lip of the sink, staring into the room they had just operated in. Almost a minute went by in silence before a dark head shook, "When we were in there, all I could think about was how the last time you performed a major surgery with someone, it was with – with _her_. And how everyone said you two worked perfectly together."

The words hung between them, and their meaning sunk in. Not only had Lauren Boswell's presence completely torn apart their marriage, but their effortless cadence they'd always had when working together, too. And she didn't know what to say about it.

In her inability to form words, Callie shook her head, still staring straight ahead into the room, "Did – did you want to _be_ with her?"

This time she did know what to say, and the question was hardly out of Callie's mouth before she shook her head, "No. God, Callie… no."

A shuddering breath was released from those full lips before dark eyes finally looked away from the operating room and over to her, "Then I really don't know what's worse. That you had fallen for someone else or that you cheated on me with someone you didn't even care about."

She didn't know, either. Both of those options were terrible, and guilt ate at her as Callie turned her back and reached for the door. Before she could go, Arizona jumped forward, "Don't. Don't go. That's all you've been doing in the last month, is leaving," she couldn't help her voice from rising, matching the increasing beating of her heart, "You promised me you weren't going to run. You told me you wouldn't go anywhere, but that's all you've been doing," the words echoed off the walls.

Callie turned around so quickly, she was startled by the intensity, "We're talking about promises now? You _promised_ to love me every day for the rest of my life, to love me for forever, and then…" her mouth hung open, head shaking back and forth as though she was unable to finish saying what she wanted to say.

And just like that, she felt like she was cut down, her anger falling away, fast, "I do love you," she said, her eyes begging for Callie to see, "I do."

Callie shook her head and looked down, "What do you want from me, Arizona? What do you want?" she asked, her voice raising in volume and tempo before it broke.

"I just want to… I want…" she searched for words but she really didn't have any. She didn't even know what she wanted. She didn't know if she wanted to be with Callie or not. She didn't know how to explain what she had been feeling with Lauren, and she especially didn't know how to say that to Callie. Instead she stared at those big brown eyes and she felt like they cut her to the core, "Right now, I just want you to stop looking at me like that."

Looking at her like she killed someone. Looking at her like she killed their marriage. Looking at her like she broke her heart.

Tears quickly spilled over from those dark eyes, as Callie rapidly reached up to wipe them away, her voice trembling with them, "I can't look at you any other way, Arizona, because when I look at you, my heart _hurts_. Looking at you, _hurts_ me. Trying to see whether or not the woman I fell in love with is still in there, makes me ache. So, I can't look at you any other way; I just don't know how."

Arizona felt tears well up in her own eyes, and she looked down, unable to keep seeing that utterly heartbreaking look, "I'm sorry."

It was the first time that she said the words, and they hang between them, until a breath caught in Callie's throat, "I don't know if I believe you. Not after all those things you said."

It was as if she couldn't control her own movements, and she reached out to touch Callie's hand, "Please. I can't take back what I said, and…" she couldn't lie anymore, not now, "I meant some of them. But I need you to know that I really am sorry. I didn't want to hurt you, Calliope."

The name slipped out of her mouth before she even realized it, and Callie's eyes were wide with surprise when they looked up at her, a fresh coat of tears sheening over them. She jerked her hand away as if touching each other burned, "I've been waiting for you to call me that for a year, and now…" she took in a shuddering breath, "You didn't hurt me, Arizona, you _broke_ me. I feel broken. And I've been trying for the last month to try to come to terms with it. Trying. I can't, and it kills me wondering when I'm going to look at you and see my wife. So I have to stop… _we_ have to stop. I need to stop being broken… and so do you. That's where we are."

She left the scrub room, tearing off her scrub cap as she went, and Arizona could feel the finality in her words, hanging in the air, eating at her. She got served with the divorce papers and a note on them from Callie days later. And a week after that was when she started getting those distant smiles. Those eyes, that _look_ in them haunted her, and it still did every time they saw each other.

* * *

Walker looked at her curiously, "What about her eyes was different last night?"

All she could do was see them in her head, "They… they weren't hurting. They weren't broken. They were… normal again."

The therapist nodded slowly, "Isn't that a good thing? Don't you want Callie to not be broken anymore?"

Sucking in some air, she held it in her lungs for a few moments before releasing it slowly, "I don't want her broken anymore, no." And knowing that that was the complete truth was even more of that progress that she and Walker spoke so often about. _She didn't want Callie to hurt_.

Walker didn't say anything to her, merely lifting an eyebrow and waiting for Arizona to explain herself. Running her palms up and down her thighs, she said, "But if she's not hurting anymore… if she can talk to me like everything is normal… then she's moving on. Then she's really moving on from me."

Just saying it out loud and knowing that it was the truth, knowing that it was happening almost made her nauseous enough to vomit.

Dr. Walker made a soft "hmm" in response before sitting back, "I'm sorry that hurts you. But Callie has every right to heal and stop hurting, herself."

"I know," the words choked her, "I just don't know how to deal with it."

"That's what we're here for," Walker responded with a comforting grin that really did nothing to comfort her at all.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think! Everyone's responses to the first chapter sere absolutely incredible, thank you all so much. **


	3. Moving Forward

_Holy crap, __she__ was here. _

_Arizona sat at the bar in Joe's sipping on her drink. It was her first time coming here, even though it had been recommended to her several times by doctors and nurses alike. In the last month that she had arrived here in Seattle, she had definitely not kept a low profile. But starting a new, demanding job as a department head here didn't allow her for much time to go out and about, therefore much of her… socialization… had taken place inside the hospital walls. _

_But if she had known that she would have seen __her__ here, she just might have made time to stop by the Emerald City Bar a little bit sooner._

_The first time she had seen Callie Torres had been a week ago. She was standing at the ortho nurse's station, double checking the chart of a teenage girl who had come in with a crushed pelvis, as someone drew up next to her. A look out of the corner of her eyes told her that it was Colleen, the pretty nurse she had hooked up with a few times since she'd arrived. Giving her a small smile, she signed her name at the bottom of the chart as the nurse asked, "So, now that you've been here for a little over a month, got your bearings a little bit, what do you think of Seattle Grace?" _

"_It is definitely… different," she said, clicking her pen and sliding it into her pocket as she slowly shut the chart in her hands. "A lot more gossip-y than I'm used to," she said the words with a smile, but they were extremely true._

_Colleen grinned at her, "But gossip-y isn't all that bad, right? Besides, I've noticed that you have flown somewhat under the radar." Her eyes fell down to Arizona's lips and she teasingly bumped the sides of their hips together. Leaning in, making sure there was no one around, she whispered, "But I've still heard a few things about you."_

_She had made sure Colleen knew she wasn't after anything serious; after all, it was the beginning of her career here and she had to take time to get used to it all. And the other woman seemed to take it all in stride. Even now, she didn't look like she was put off by the more than warm welcome Arizona had found in the arms of a surprising many. _

_But it had been a few days for her and Colleen had always been very… enthusiastic. So she leaned in just a little bit, and lifted an eyebrow, "Oh, yeah? Such as?"_

_The nurse started to speak, but she was drowned out by a voice from behind them, "Hey, can someone go check in on room 203 in about twenty minutes?"_

_The low, smoky timber of it sent a thrill shooting down her spine and goose bumps erupted on her skin. All of the sudden, the words Colleen was saying seemed completely unimportant and she turned around to see who that voice was coming from. She was faced with an already retreating form of a woman, who had raven black hair up in a messy ponytail. Her hips moved back and forth in what must have been the sexiest, most natural, effortless sway she had ever seen in her entire life._

_She was hardly aware that she breathed out, "Who is that?"_

_Until Colleen answered from behind her, "That's Dr. Torres."_

_Torres. Arizona's pager went off and she went to deal with Jackson and Dr. Bailey before the nurse could say anything else, but the name stuck with her. Torres. Dr. Torres. _

_And in the next few days, she found that the gossip mill that Seattle Grace was wasn't actually a bad thing. In fact, people talked so much that it was extremely easy for her to garner information about Dr. Torres and make it look natural. Information like her first name was Callie, she was a resident who took high risks in surgery and got high rewards and good outcomes, and everyone that Arizona dipped into for information spoke so highly of her, Arizona was positive she was the only person at this hospital that no one had a bad word to say about. _

_She also learned that her last relationship that she'd been in had been with one Erica Hahn. The name itself didn't matter to her – what mattered was that it was a woman._

_And then, after she had seen Callie Torres once, it seemed that she started seeing her much more often. She would see her in the cafeteria, eating with Mark Sloan. She saw her name on the surgical board. She saw her walking down hallways or into elevators. And she learned things about her through her own observations, too. _

_Things like her name was actually Calliope, which she found incredibly beautiful. Things like she wore her sleeves of the shirt under her scrubs and the sleeves of her lab coat rolled up and that her forearms were ridiculously sexy. Things like she had expressive eyes and even from a distance, Arizona would see the sadness haunting them. She learned that an obsession could form in such a short time, and that she really wanted Callie Torres._

_So when she watched those sad eyes and sexy forearms covered by an even hotter leather jacket stand and go to the bar bathroom, she didn't wait long to follow. _

"I didn't hesitate. That's how I was – before. I knew what I wanted, and I wasn't afraid to go after it. I wasn't afraid to tell a woman who I had never met that I wanted her, wasn't afraid to kiss her. I knew what I wanted, and I went after it," she expelled a breath, shaking her head.

She was standing in Dr. Walker's office, even though it wasn't time for her appointment. In fact, her appointment was still three days away, and this little visit had been completely unplanned. But now, at this point in her life, her therapist was the only person who she felt like she could talk openly to about whatever she was feeling regarding Callie, whether or not it was completely messed up.

Her emotions felt like they were all jumbled, and they made her stomach feel too tangled to sit down in the chair that she normally sat in. So she stood behind it, bracing her hands on the back, while Walker tilted her head at her, "But you said when you came in here that you feel that now you know what you want."

She did say that. Fifteen minutes ago, she had come in here for an impromptu meeting, and the first words out of her mouth were, "I want Callie back."

Which was the most decisive statement she had been able to make in terms of her relationship with her estranged wife in over two months. The words tasted good in her mouth but they frightened her.

The therapist folded her hands, "What brought this on so suddenly? I thought you were unsure as to what you wanted with Callie."

Now she did move around the chair, sitting down in it and leaning back as the strength that was holding her up seemed to get a little shaky. Blue eyes closed as she thought back to the interaction that had transpired in front of her a half hour ago.

She had a table where she ate lunch now. It used to be whatever table Callie was at or maybe in one of their offices. But now, she sat at a corner table whenever she had time for lunch. A medical journal she was skimming through sat open but forgotten, as she pushed her fork through the salad in front of her, but was no longer eating because her stomach was revolting against her.

Keeping her eyes trained on the lettuce and cucumbers, her ears were focused on the voices she could hear up at the food line. All right, she was fooling herself; her eyes watched from under her lashes. Callie stood there, smiling her actual, real, bright smile at _that woman_. Oh, Arizona had been noticing _that woman_ for a few weeks. Because she was sniffing around her wife's heels for a while.

She was a surgical oncologist, who had started her fellowship here a few months ago. But Arizona hadn't even learned her name – Dr. Alicia Ross – until she noticed that she was having lunch with her wife. But there was a man who had osteosarcoma, she might have done a little questioning to get that information, and she told herself that they were just working together.

Then again, wasn't that what she and Lauren Boswell had done? A snarky voice in the back of her head that had really never spoken before the last few months, asked.

And here they were a few feet in front of her. She would be lying if she said her eyes didn't map the way Callie moved about every day. But today, as she approached the cashier, her movements were blocked. She gave Dr. Ross a small grin, "Hey, how's it going?"

The other woman had taken a deep breath and looked up at Callie, "I want you to know that I really like you. And I wanted to know if we could go on a date."

Arizona felt like a lead weight dropped in her stomach and she looked up quickly, only to see Callie send her a small look over her shoulder. They made quick eye contact before she broke it and turned her back. It was clear Callie made an effort to lower her voice, "I'm, um, I'm still married, you know."

The surprise in Ross' response was evident, "Oh. I thought – I mean, you don't wear your ring, and you haven't for a while. I assumed. Well, I guess I'm going to turn around and we can forget about this, then?"

Inside, the voice in her mind cheered, rejoiced. _Go away_. Callie was still _her_ wife.

And then it was that voice that could still send a tingle down her spine that killed that inner celebration she was having, "Wait, Alicia, I – I'm separated."

No. By now, her fork lay forgotten in the plastic salad bowl and she just plain watched this whole thing happen. They walked away together and Arizona wanted to scream or hit someone or something. She wanted to tell Alicia Ross to go away, and she wanted to tell Callie that she had told her years ago that if she ever cheated on her again, she was going to kick the crap out of her.

But she didn't do any of that. _She_ had been the one to cheat, so she had no right to object to Callie going on a date. _She_ was the one who broke Callie, to cause the pain and tears on Callie's face, and she just knew she couldn't react. It had to be written somewhere in the rules of adulterers, right?

Did adulterers even have rules?

She wasn't sure. All she was sure of at that moment was that her wife was getting hit on and was hitting back somewhere in her same vicinity and it made her feel sick. Her wife. Callie was still her wife, regardless of whether or not they were separated. Shouldn't she ask her about dating someone else before she actually went on a date?

Then again, they were only still married because she wouldn't – couldn't – sign the divorce papers. But still. It counted. When she'd received the papers from Callie, they were very clear. There had been a knock on her door, early in the morning. She didn't recognize the man outside, who was wearing a uniform, and when she opened the door, he offered her the papers.

A petition for divorce. Just seeing that had made her blood run cold, numbing her entire body. She couldn't believe her fingers were working enough for her to sign that she had received them. Inside of the folder was a note written in Callie's handwriting: _You don't have to sign them yet. We should both think about it for a while before we make any decisions_.

She knew how much Callie was hurting at that point, and she was vaguely able to appreciate the fact that her wife hadn't just ended their marriage while blinded by emotion. But now, here they were. Married but not. In this limbo that she didn't know which way it was going to end, even though she knew they couldn't stay here forever. And for the last few months, she vacillated back and forth between what exactly she wanted.

And now, it looked like the direction they were heading in was the one where they weren't going to be together again, and all of the sudden, she knew without a doubt that wasn't where she wanted to be. She still had her ring; she still looked at it every night before bed as it taunted her from inside the jewelry case she had on her dresser. For the last few months, she wondered whether or not she would wear it again. Whether or not she wanted so.

Now that the answer seemed to glaringly obvious, it was too late.

"How do you know it's entirely too late, when you haven't really talked to Callie?" Walker asked her.

"I don't have to talk to her," the words bubbled up from the back of her throat as she rolled her eyes up to the ceiling, "Because it's not… her. It's me. I _used_ to know what I wanted, and go after it. Do you know what I did now? I came to you," she closed her eyes to take in a deep breath.

She used to be the kind of person who kissed women in bathrooms. Now she was the kind of person who went to her therapist. Biting the corner of her lip, she looked back at Walker, "I can't say anything to Callie. I can't – I can't even talk to her for longer than two minutes. How could she even want _me_, anyway? I'm not the woman she married. I'm not. I don't know if I ever can be again."

And truthfully, she didn't even know if she wanted to be.

Digging her hands into the tops of her thighs, she shook her head, trying to block the tears that started to come. She hated crying, and really, she had no reason to cry now any more than she did yesterday or even a few hours ago. But holy fuck, her life was just a god damn _mess_.

Knocking her foot lightly against her prosthetic leg, she brought her hands up, elbows braced on her legs, and covered her face. "I thought the hard part would be about the leg," she whispered, but her words were garbled.

Wiping her palms over her closed eyes, when she was sure the tears that threatened to fall weren't going to, she looked up and repeated, "I thought the hard part would be talking about my leg and accepting it's place in my life. Not about Callie."

She looked down at it – the prosthetic was covered with her scrub pants, but somehow in the last few months, she'd stopped looking at it like a foreign object that didn't belong to her body. She thought that she wouldn't need to continue to see Dr. Walker anymore after she reached that point in her life.

But here she was, a total fucking mess, still.

Walker was silent for a few moments before she suggested, "Do you think it's possible that perhaps your biggest source of contention when it comes to your leg wasn't about accepting the loss of the limb itself, but the role that Callie played in losing it?"

Her eyebrows came together in disagreement, automatically shaking her head, "No, I… that…"

"_I promise."_

Her throat felt almost too right to squeeze out words, "She promised. She promised me that she wouldn't let them take off my leg. Her promise was… I believed it. I trusted it. And then I woke up without a leg."

She barely remembered waking up from that surgery. Her hand was clasped tightly in between both of her wife's… and then she felt… different. And most of her memories for the time after that were swallowed by a piercing feeling of anger and bitterness and resentment that had taken so long – months – to feel manageable. Life was different. Life was living with the knowledge that the woman she felt the closest to, the woman who loved her, who she loved, made the decision to cut off her leg after she had _promised_ not to.

Walker nodded slowly, "It sounds to me that even though the decision to cut off your leg would have had to have been made, it was the fact that Callie promised it wouldn't happen that bothers you."

Bothers was such a… small word. A word that didn't do anything more than make a dent in the horrible thoughts and feelings and words that had come out of the amputation. But she let out a deep breath and nodded, "I didn't trust her. For a long time, I – it was hard for me to trust her."

She never took the time to explore the reason of why putting her trust into others was so difficult for her. It could be because of the constant moving that had taken place throughout her childhood, never really allowing her to trust that any of the friends she made in these new places would still be her friends when she left. It could be because the first girlfriend she had ever had, at age sixteen, the first person she had ever let in and see a different side of her, left her less than a year later for a girl she'd met while at college.

It could be because of the girlfriend she had during her residency, whom she'd fallen for and fallen hard, left her to go back to men. It could be because Tim, the one person she had always known she could count on, the one person who had always been there for her and supported her no matter what, died so suddenly and so out of her control.

For whatever the specific reason was or the combination of reasons, she had started taking steps in her life to prevent the heartaches that could come from things happening out of her control. And those steps included staying away from newborn lesbians.

No matter how sexy they were with their forearms and leather jackets.

No matter how plump and soft their lips were.

No matter how much their voice could make her skin tingle with anticipation.

She kept control over the things in her life that she could control, and that was one of the things. So Callie Torres, smoking hot ortho resident, was simply off the table. Even if Arizona did find the nervousness Callie had had while asking her out on a date abnormally attractive.

But she'd ignored her own rules about such matters because something told her that Callie was worth it. She was worth chancing her newborn status, she was worth trying to actually date despite the fact that she still wasn't after a relationship in Seattle. But no matter how much she did like Callie – love her, even – there was always that nugget of doubt… that little irking in her stomach whenever she saw her girlfriend with Mark or thought of her past – George then Mark then Erica, like rapid fire – held her back from completely trusting her.

Callie had such a big heart, which she loved… but Arizona also recognized that that big heart was easily swayed and led in different directions. And when it was too late, Arizona realized that she was so deeply in love with Callie that she would try to hold on to her no matter what her inner reservations were about trust.

"But you did, eventually, come to trust her? Otherwise, her breaking her promise to you wouldn't have hurt quite so much," the therapist prompted.

It was the wedding that did it for her. After coming back from Africa… the pregnancy… god, she loved Callie but the trust was so hard to keep. Logic told her that the two of them had been broken up, but still. During that breakup, she couldn't imagine being able to stomach sleeping with someone else. And then when she'd been able to overlook that, to tell herself Callie was trustworthy and that she wouldn't do anything with Mark when they were actually back together, he was always still _there_.

But when Callie had walked down the aisle to her, when she had made her vows – her _promises_ – Arizona could see the look in her eyes. It was as though she knew what looking at love looked like, and she knew without a doubt that Callie had chosen her. That she was going to be with her. There was no longer a competition between her and Mark, because at the altar, any sort of butting heads ended.

And she had won. She won Callie's heart and Callie won her trust, and when she gave her trust, she gave it completely. "When we were married… I knew without a doubt that I trusted her. I knew that she took marriage seriously, that she took me – us – just as seriously, just as completely, and that was it. I've never –" she broke off, shaking her head, eyes narrowed in concentration at the floor, "I've never trusted someone so completely in my life. And so when she promised me my leg, I believed her. I didn't think it was just something she was saying to make me stop worrying. To me, it wasn't just a word. It was… my wife making me a promise."

Her mouth remained open, just as she searched to put into words the way she felt. The utter bafflement she had at Callie being able to perform miracles for other people but when it came to her, the only choice was amputation. The crashing disappointment and anger and the outrageous, unreasonable feeling of having her trust completely broken after she had given it so fully.

Her voice sounded foreign to her own ears, "She shouldn't have made me such a big promise when she couldn't keep it."

Walker was silent for a few moments before she said, "So, perhaps it's not about the act that Callie cut off your leg, but that she told you she wouldn't."

Whipping her head up, she narrowed her eyes, "How was I supposed to trust her again? H-how could I… when she promised." Closing her eyes again, she brought up her hands to rub over her face, "I felt so _betrayed_. And I think…" she swallowed hard, clearing her throat, as she thought back to the confusing rush of emotions she'd felt with Lauren. Her mouth felt dry, "I think... I wonder... what if I might have cheated, at least in part, so that Callie knew how it felt to have that trust broken."

When she managed to look up, she saw that familiar look of acceptance without judgment on Walker's face, but she couldn't help judging _herself_. Saying those words even though the idea of them had been in her head for months made her feel like… like scum.

"If you still aren't ready to discuss the reasons behind your experience with Dr. Boswell, then we don't have to," the other woman reminded her gently, and Arizona guessed she looked as sick to her stomach as she felt.

It took her a few minutes before she was able to shake her head, hands clenched, "No. I think I need to – to start. I'm not going to make more progress if I try to ignore it or pretend it didn't happen, right?"

When she looked up for confirmation, she got it in the form of a nod, "Exactly."

Rolling her head back so it hit the back of the chair, she let out a deep breath, "Lauren... was..."

_"Do you know how many Arizona Robbins' there are on the internet? One," the words rolled around in her head for far, far longer than they should have. The glint in hazel eyes of the other surgeon was knowing and dirty, and she shouldn't have been intrigued by it, shouldn't have wanted to see more of it... but she did. It was shameful and it made her feel wrong, especially as Callie walked with her, their hands linked in a way that seemed like they were two pieces to a puzzle._

_But she was married. She was married to a woman who loved her, who she loved_, _so she ignored these feelings that the looks and the touches that Lauren Boswell gave her. They weren't the ones she felt with Callie when they made love. When she had finally felt ready to let her wife in physically, intimately, it was... words couldn't fully describe the feeling. But these were different feelings of sheer lust, a lust she hadn't felt in too long. And she would admit that a part of her reveled in the fact that Lauren - a hot, talented woman - wanted her even though she didn't have the obligation of marriage to her. She knew Arizona had one leg, and she still found her attractive enough to flirt shamelessly with._

_She would be lying if the confidence from that didn't make her walk with an extra bounce in her step. But she still ignored it. Because she was married._

_But then she had said those words: It's okay to lose a little bit of control._

_Arizona didn't know whether or not she would have committed the ultimate act of infidelity if those words had not been uttered. Even as Lauren said the words, she didn't understand what they meant to Arizona; it wasn't about losing control. It was entirely about gaining it. She didn't have control over her leg being amputated. She didn't have control over the fragile trust she'd built with Callie completely shattering. She barely had enough control over her life to hold everything together. It was inch by tiny, slow inch that she and Callie were able to piece together their marriage. _

_And underneath everything was that piece of her, that voice in her head, that feeling in her stomach, of that betrayal and resentment of a promise broken by the person she trusted most in the world. She had the control, the power to hurt back as much as she had been hurt._

Closing her eyes as tightly as she could, she felt like she wanted to vomit, the back of her throat already metallic with the taste, she shook her head, "It wasn't about Lauren. It was about how she made me feel."

Slowly, Dr. Walker nodded, "I think that makes perfect sense."

It didn't make sense, though. "How can you say that? I _cheated_ on my wife; the reasons why shouldn't be able to make perfect sense, because the act in and of itself doesn't make sense." Wrapping her arms around her waist, she rasped out, "I was not raised to be a vindictive person. I... I was raised to be able to forgive. And I cheated because I knew it would hurt my wife."

Despite her snapping, Dr. Walker was nothing but calm, "You went through a trauma, and you had a reaction to it. I'm not here to pass judgment on your actions - you know they were wrong all on your own. Let me ask you this: with where you are in your life _right now_ and if you were put into that same situation, would you make the same choices?"

"I don't..." she trailed off, trying to imagine her life where she was now. If she could have foreseen the devastation she would feel after Callie and Sofia left, if she would have known what it was to feel like her heart was being squeezed to a bloody pulp as another woman hit on her wife... "No," she finally said, feeling a little dazed, but her answer was sure, "I don't think I would."

The therapist looked satisfied, "Then that is what I'm here for. You were hurt by the person who you trusted the most, and it is human nature to want to strike out and hurt back. So you did. That makes sense on the most basic level. But even with those complicated feelings about trust, the fact that you still loved - and love - Callie is clear to me."

"It is?" Because for a while, she herself wasn't even sure.

The other woman nodded, "If you didn't love Callie, you wouldn't feel as guilty, as upset, as you have for the last few months. It was just a matter of what you are planning on doing with that love - acting on it or letting it go."

And that brought her back to thinking about Callie and Dr. Alicia Ross. She had always thought that it would be the worst thing if Callie went back to a man, back to men, if they broke up. But now, after seeing her with a woman, she felt like that was worse. Because she was Callie's _woman_. Of course, she was not Erica, not the first. But she was the first woman to have that real, true, deep connection with her wife. She was the first woman to show Callie was it was to really _be with_ a woman. What if Callie could find that connection with another woman? With the sick feeling back, she realized that that was the worst scenario.

But everything was just so messy and ugly, and even though she knew that she wanted Callie, she didn't know how she was supposed to act on it. "What should I do?" she looked up, wanting answers, wanting a direction, "I need you to tell me what to do." Because it seemed like Dr. Walker understood her and her relationship with Callie even more than she did at this point.

Instead of giving her an answer, the therapist simply shook her head, "I can't tell you what to do. It's your decision of whether or not you want to give it a try to build up that relationship again."

"You don't understand... I said horrible things to her. I don't know how to come back from that. What if we can't come back from that?" she whispered, but all she could hear in her ears were the shouted words she'd screamed the night that everything had just fallen apart around her.

_Stick out your leg and I will go grab a bone saw and let's even the score!_

"You're the only one who can decide that. You're the only one who can decide whether or not you want to tell Callie that you want to be with her. But there are two things you need to remember while making your decisions: the first is to keep in mind that you did do and say some hurtful things, but you are _not_ a bad person. And the second is that there is no "coming back" from that because there is no going back. All there is for you and Callie, no matter which direction you take it in, is forward."

* * *

**Please let me know what you think! The feedback so far has been incredible, thank you so much. And to answer a question I saw pop up a few times: this story will be told entirely from Arizona's point of view. We will see Callie more as the story goes on, and we'll get glimpses of her and how she is feeling through Arizona's point of view lens. Thank you so much for reading!**


	4. Once Upon A Time

She was back in the support group, which made today her third meeting attended. She had done to the second one the week after, but didn't say anything because… she really didn't know what to say to these people. For most of them she wondered why they were even here, when they all seemed so accepting of their lives already. And then she didn't return last week, missing a meeting.

When she had expressed these thoughts to Dr. Walker a few days ago, in response to the therapists' question as to why she didn't go to the meeting again on the third week, "I just don't think…" she narrowed her eyes to find the right words, "I don't think I'm really in the same place in my life as the other people there."

Walker had folded her arms, "And why is that?"

Her mouth opened and she pulled in a breath before shrugging her shoulders, "They're all… they seem like they're there for a type of social group more than a support group. It's like all of their problems aren't even about their limbs."

The therapist only shifted one eyebrow, "And you make this assumption after going to two meetings? Also, I believe that maybe they are just the kind of group you need."

Two meetings was enough for her to know… except maybe it shouldn't be. An issue she had that she hadn't brought up with Dr. Walker was how she sometimes could jump to conclusions, and she knew that was a problem she had. With a sigh, she shook her head, "The kind of group I _need_?"

The kind of group she had always had came in the form of two distinct groups. The first was her – as Callie had always called them – lesbian friends. She had them – as she called them, simply her friends – and then, especially after she met Callie and got drawn in to what it meant to work at Seattle Grace, she had hospital doctor friends.

But now, it seemed she had neither. The friendships she had cultivated outside of the hospital had all ended after the crash. Maybe ended was the wrong word, but she didn't know how else to say it. The few women had come around a few times post-plane, they visited her in the hospital briefly, but after her leg… she'd been so miserable and embarrassed and just so _angry_ that she was hardly able to face herself in the mirror, let alone her friends. And after a little bit, they had stopped calling, and she didn't reach out to make an attempt with them, either.

With a frown, she looked at Walker's knowing face.

The woman nodded softly, "I'm not saying that you don't have anyone, as the look on your face seems to think I'm implying. However, I am saying that anyone you have in your life doesn't have the capability of understanding what you have been through, and the life you now have to live. It's no one's fault – it is just what it is. You are living as an amputee, and that experience has changed you in a way that would be unnatural for someone who has not gone through that to fully understand."

It was true that during the two meetings she had been to, she felt a sort of strangely unique at-home kinship with these people that she'd been missing with other people. Running her hand across her torso, holding on to her elbow, she took a deep breath, thinking. Bringing her other hand up, she held her other arm, crossing them, remembering the first sessions they had been through together, the first few times Walker had suggested a support group.

"_Why would I need a group of strangers when I the people I was in the crash, who I shared the experience with, were people I knew and saw every day? They were the people I'm supposed to be able to relate to, right?" she snapped._

_Her voice sounded bitter, even to herself. Because it was only now, in hindsight, that she could see how completely wrong she had been about that. Yes, Derek and Meredith and Cristina had been on that plane with her, "Everyone else has emotional scars, and I can relate to them with those. But… outwardly, they are all __fine__. They don't have to look at themselves and see the physical reminder every single day. Derek's hand got fixed. Callie fixed it," she said in a small voice, feeling very small herself._

_She was the only one out of the four of them who wasn't in their little group. They were all bonded by events outside of the crash, and not only was she not a part of that, but she was the only one who still had the reminder on her body that she wouldn't ever be the same. People saw Meredith or Derek or Cristina and they wouldn't look twice; no one would guess what they had gone through. _

_But she was the one who wouldn't ever be able to pretend life was normal again. She was the one who would get stared at. Who people who point at and whisper about._

_She expected Walker to say something along the lines telling her that she was wrong. That it wasn't fair of her to say things like that when they had all been through a tragedy. But she didn't. Instead, the therapist accepted her words, "You are absolutely right. Your experience isn't the same as theirs."_

_That was the first time she really felt like Walker could really understand her. _

Then there was a second reason was that… she was a freaking _doctor_. She didn't need some other people to help her "come to terms" with her amputation; she understood how it worked better than any of them would. She only went to that first meeting after long talks with Dr. Walker in which she was able to come to terms with the fact that it wasn't just medical.

Finally, she nodded, "I know. That's why I agreed to go in the first place. And the people there were… fine," she settled on the word, thinking about how the group had left her feeling a little bit better both times.

Walker stared at her, eyes measuring for just a few seconds, before conceding, "All right, it is completely up to you whether or not you want to continue going; I wanted you to give it a try, and you did. Maybe you might want to go to this next meeting, though. I think you might find it to be particularly relevant to you."

Sitting up straighter in her chair, she considered the words, curious, "What is going to be so different about this meeting?"

"Sherry –" Walker smiled a bit as Arizona rolled her eyes unintentionally. Sherry was another part of the reason of why she had stopped going to the group after meeting number two. She had this was of talking and smiling in an almost patronizing way, "– I realize you don't really like her very much, but she has an outstanding record of running group. And a few times a year, she has topical meetings. This week's topical focus is on the effect of limb loss on relationships, specifically between spouses."

She would be lying if she said that maybe didn't make her perk up just a little bit and feel slightly more open to entertaining the possibility of going to the meeting. Callie hadn't spoken to her of her proposed date with Alicia, the one she had overheard them talking about a week ago. But she knew it was actually _a thing_ because the gossip mill was still running at full speed and power.

And she was still in that same place as she was before with Callie; when she saw her, it was such a freeing, relieving, release of a feeling to not feel scornful toward her. She wasn't sure when it was that it first happened in the last few weeks, but there it was. That was part of the issue – if she couldn't even pinpoint how it was that she stopped harboring these bad feelings toward Callie how was she supposed to be sure she could ward them off if they came back? Or how to manage them?

Then there was that whole issue of the fact that she still had no fucking clue of how to even approach her wife. It was possible that maybe this group meeting might… help?

Then she rolled her eyes at herself and shook her head at Walker, "That's not… regardless of what these people have gone through, it's not the same thing that Callie and I have gone through." Because she was willing to bet that none of those people's spouses were in the same situation. None of their spouses had cut off their leg. None of them lived for a year in an unthinkable mixture of contentment and unhappiness and love and resentment before breaking a full heart. Of that, she was certain.

No one had gone through what she had, their relationships hadn't endured what her marriage had, and she couldn't see how that meeting would be beneficial.

So she'd simply looked at Walker for a few seconds, unsure of whether or not she wanted to say her thoughts aloud, but she didn't have to. The therapist simply looked at her, "Just think about it, Arizona. Consider going. Maybe that can be your goal. Or maybe talking to Callie can be."

And, yet again, here she was, back in group.

All eyes, including hers, were on the man sitting diagonally across from her, in his wheelchair. He was missing the opposite leg that she was, and the cutoff point on his leg was shorter than hers. As a doctor, she could see from here that a prosthetic with that kind of cut on the bone would be nearly impossible to fit comfortably, yet he was still wearing it.

Not that really any prosthetic was actually comfortable, but hers wasn't absolutely terrible. Logically, she knew it could be worse.

He drew up his shoulders in a shrug and finished telling them about how he'd been in a car accident and he and his wife struggled for a while to reconcile after she had been the one driving the car when it had happened. After expelling a deep breath, he shook his head, "I still love Kelsey, but the divorce was the best thing for our relationship and for the kids."

How? She couldn't stop staring at him while her stomach twisted and turned. Out of the five people so far that had discussed their marriages or relationships post amputation, there was not one happy ending. And furthermore, none of them seemed angry about the way things were. And she just couldn't wrap her head around it.

It was Sherry's voice that drew her out of her thoughts, "Arizona? You look like you have something you want to share?"

Slowly looking away from the man, Craig, she looked at the group leader and shook her head, "Not really, no." Then she looked down at her hand, at the slight tan line that was still visible from where she used to wear her ring, and she closed her eyes tightly, drawing in a breath before speaking again, "Actually, I… I'm married. To a woman."

Uncomfortable with the way everyone turned their complete attention onto her and still irritated with that _smile_ Sherry gave her, she couldn't find anything to really focus on, and instead chose the floor in the middle of the circle they sat in.

"My wife and I, we're separated now. But I don't think... I don't want to be, anymore. And how she's going to date another woman," she forced the words out, feeling just so completely out of order telling her life to people that she really didn't know.

It was barely a second that went by before one of the women who sat a few chairs down from her asked, "Do you only want her back now that she's going to date? Because after my husband and I weren't together anymore, I thought I was happy until he started dating again and then I wanted him back. I'm just trying to say that there's a difference between wanting to be with someone and not wanting them to be with anyone else."

Her eyebrows knit together and blue eyes lifted off of her unsure look she'd been giving the ground and flashed up to look at the woman, "No, I don't only want her because she's with someone else," she shook her head felt angry with this woman for insinuating.

The woman, whose name escaped her, but who had a prosthetic arm, just raised her eyebrows at her, "Hey, I was just saying. It happens. But it's not going to be good for either one of you if that's the driving reason behind it."

But it wasn't the reason. Maybe that was what set it off, maybe seeing Alicia Ross make eyes at her wife was what made her open her eyes to the reality of what could be lost for good if things didn't change between them, but that wasn't _the_ reason.

The reason, as it had been reinforced to her last night, was Callie herself. Last night was the whole reason she was here in the first place.

* * *

She had two of her fingers lightly clasped in Sofia's as they walked down the street. It was the Sofia Swap, but unlike most Wednesdays, she was dropping Sofia off at Callie's apartment, whereas most days, Callie came to her. She didn't have work that day, so Sofia didn't go to daycare and instead they spent the day together, and indulged in her daughter's favorite activity, which was the park.

There was a light, drizzling rain coming down on them, forming light rain drops on the plastic purple backpack on the toddler's shoulders. They both had on their rain jackets, which she was glad she brought in preparation even though she hadn't been planning on the rain. Then again, in Seattle, even the weather men couldn't guarantee rainless days most of the time.

But because the park was equidistant from both she and Callie's apartments, she had texted her to tell her that she would just drop Sofia off when they were done. And because the rain made her joints and muscles in her leg ache even more than usual, plus her daughter had been up and down with the sniffles lately, their afternoon in the park had to end sooner than either she or Sof wanted.

Her daughter took charge of them as soon as they walked into the building, and her large brown eyes were inquisitive as she led them to the elevator, "Mama? Why you come to Mami's?"

Which was an extremely valid question, because the routine she and Callie had developed with Sofia was that they would each pick their daughter up from the other woman's apartment. They didn't drop her off. And a part of her really loved that her small daughter was intelligent enough to pick up on that fact.

"Because it's time for you to go back to Mami, and we are going to do something a little different," she smiled down at the imploring, confused face.

"'Guess so," she shrugged, and when the elevator doors opened she dropped Arizona's hand and bounded down the hallway while Arizona followed behind, grimacing at the way her leg rubbed against her prosthesis.

Sofia lifted her hands to grasp at the door handle, but wasn't strong enough to actually open it, and she found herself reaching before uncertainty stopped her. This wasn't her apartment; she had never walked in more than just a step or two, as Callie always had Sofia ready to go. Instead, she knocked.

It only took seconds before the door swung open and Callie appeared. She took in their damp appearances, and then bent to one knee to press a kiss to Sofia's forehead, "It's raining, huh?"

"Yup!" the little girl's chubby hands lifted and unzipped her coat, handing it to Callie before walking to the direction of the kitchen, "Hungry!"

Callie had turned her head to watch for a second, before looking back at her. True to what she had discussed with Dr. Walker, a few days ago, when she'd picked Sofia up, she had made more conversation with Callie. It was mostly based on the hospital and their patients, but it had lasted for five minutes. And that was something that made her almost unreasonably excited. And now she took in the sight of her wife, who was wearing dark jeans and a plain black shirt, with her hair down and she… didn't want to go.

She didn't know what to say in order to stay for just a few more seconds, and her leg hurt and she should probably just get back to her apartment so she could take off the prosthetic and get more comfortable, but she _didn't want to go_.

And it was hard for her to feel because things had never been just so awkward between them. For their entire relationship, the good parts and the bad parts, they didn't have these odd silences where neither one of them knew what to say. Even their relationship right after she had cheated, and their ensuing fights… they had been very unpleasant and hurtful, but it flowed. They flowed.

Except, not anymore.

Thankfully, what flow they still had left was culminated into a two foot, ten inch ice breaker, who reappeared around the corner, "Mac 'n' cheese!"

Coming closer, she reached up and took Arizona's fingers again, her eyes big and begging up at Callie's, "Mama stay for din."

It wasn't a question; it was a command, and she tugged hard, forcing Arizona to stumble forward a step, shaking her head, "Sof, I can't, I –"

That face tilted upwards, already starting to contort, tears forming as her forehead wrinkled, "Mama! Mama, you say tonight is diff'ent!" She shook her head and her grip became even tighter around Arizona's fingers.

She could have easily pulled away, but she couldn't, leaving her back hunched over slightly as her daughter pulled down even more, pulling her hand against her chest, "My mama, have din!"

"I, uh," her mouth opened, to say what – she wasn't sure – and blue eyes moved from between her daughter to her wife. She supposed it was her fault. They had given Sofia a routine for the last few months, and today, by coming to drop her off at the apartment and telling her that tonight was different. And her heart felt so warmed the way Sofia held her hand – unintentionally – over her heart, not letting her go.

So she looked up at Callie, who had her eyes closed for just a second before they flipped open and she sighed, "Why don't you stay for dinner?"

Her heart fluttered in her chest and then started to pound as a feeling of utter lightness took over, "Really?"

Those brown eyes that she used to be able to read so easily but were more guarded now, skimmed over her face, and she felt like she was smiling big and hard enough to break her face wide open. Finally, Callie just nodded and gave her a slight smile in response, "I mean, it's just macaroni and cheese –"

"It's perfect," she said quickly, maybe too quickly, but she couldn't stop it.

Her wife slowly nodded, "All right. Why don't you just… here, I'll take your coat?" she offered, clearly unsure.

It was weird and new and Callie was taking her coat and moving to hang it up in the closet a few feet away like she was some sort of stranger. Then again, she supposed in a way that was exactly what this was like. Shutting the door behind her, she was pulled into the kitchen by Sofia, meanwhile looking around at everything.

This was the very first time she had been inside of the apartment, beyond the foyer. She hated to admit that it was nice and homey – because that meant that this was a real thing. This was a real home for Callie and for Sofia. When she had first heard about the fact that Callie got an apartment, she knew then that her wife probably just wasn't coming back home, at all. But actually being in it right now, solidified it.

This was a home that Callie had made with Sofia – their home, but not hers.

Swallowing the lump that quickly formed in her throat, she took her daughter's lead and soon found herself seated – thankfully, off her leg, though if standing on it meant that she was going to be with Callie and Sofia for just a little longer, she would absolutely do it – with a bowl of macaroni in front of her.

The toddler, clearly extremely excited at having dinner with her mommies together for the first time in nearly three months, talked enough to fill all of the gaps the adults left in conversation. Arizona couldn't tell what was going on in Callie's head, but she was both nervous and excited to be here. To be sitting across from her wife at the kitchen table, watching Callie automatically reach out and wipe Sofia's chin or hand her a napkin.

It was so normal, and yet it wasn't. And all at once, she wasn't sure whether or not she should be mourning the loss of what used to be or excited at what could be. Their old life with the three of them, the easiness and the fluidity, was so concretely over. Whatever hope she'd been having about keeping it alive somehow, was gone now. This table, this kitchen, this dinner, and this Callie were all different.

So was this Arizona.

But in the midst of that grief that wanted to well up at the loss of any ideas that might have still been in her head from before, there was this new feeling. This _was_ different. And that could be a good thing. A very good thing.

Because maybe, in order for them to be anything more than this awkward, uncertain stage they were in, they had to rebuild. Their relationship would have to be different, because they were both different. Right?

But what if that wasn't what Callie wanted? God, she had never been someone who second-guessed every single thought she had, and it was absolutely terrible, living with nerves knotting in her stomach.

By the time dinner was over, Sofia had said everything she could think to say, and she looked back and forth between her mother's a bright grin on her face that spoke to Arizona volumes about what she was thinking. She might not be able to read Callie the same way, but she could absolutely read Sofia.

"Mama stay for tubby time?" she directed this question to Callie, her eyes deliberately wide and blinking.

Arizona's heart started to beat a little faster, and she held her breath along with Sofia waiting for Callie's answer. And then expelled it in a rush as her wife shook her head, her tone firm, "No. Your mama has to go back to her apartment. But you'll see her in a few days."

She turned her head, waiting for Arizona to back her, and it was with reluctance that she forced a smile for her daughter, "Right. I'll see you soon, Sof."

As she leaned in to pressed a kiss to a chin that had liquid cheese on it, she stayed there for just a few seconds longer than usual, as her mind rebelled against Callie's words. She _didn't_ have to go back to her apartment. Her apartment was empty and it missed Sofia whenever she wasn't there. Her bedroom was empty without Callie's things, and despite her anxiety about being here and the awkwardness that reigned over them, she didn't want to leave.

But, as it was now, she didn't say that. Instead, she simply whispered, "I love you."

Sofia pressed her food covered lips to her cheek, "Love you, mama."

"Why don't you go get your duckies for tubby time, Sof?" Callie suggested, bringing them out of their moment, and simultaneously offering a napkin to Arizona to wipe the cheese off that their daughter had left on her face.

Once upon a time, before everything had been ruined, she could have laughed that full-bodied husky laugh that she did and wiped it off for her. Her long fingers would have stayed against her skin for much longer than was necessary, and her full lips would have been smiling as they came to plant a kiss on hers.

She took the napkin and wiped off her own face as Sofia scooted out from her booster seat and slid down to the floor, walking away.

Which left them back in that awkward place that they were in. They'd gone from hardly exchanging a handful of sentences between the two of them per week, to making small, tiny conversations with one another, which was a step in and of itself. And tonight they had skipped to having dinner, which left them both at a loss.

And that meant it was probably her cue to leave. Pushing herself up, she grimaced in pain at the prosthetic, and Callie asked, "Does it hurt more than usual?"

She was surprised that the words had more than a clinical tone – it wasn't one of complete concern that it once did, but it was something – and she shook her head, "No. Kind of. Just in the rain, sometimes," she admitted.

Callie brought the empty dishes to the sink, and her voice was quiet as she spoke, "You might want to try some of these exercises, they might help with that. I have some pamphlets in my office," she offered.

Once upon a time, Callie showed her said exercises in person. The last time her leg had acted up, the pain abnormal during a humid storm – a few weeks before everything exploded between them – Callie had rubbed her leg for her. Her massages worked better than any exercise that there could possibly be in the world.

But obviously that wasn't an option now, and her throat felt tight when she nodded, "I – um, I'll stop by and grab one later this week."

Callie's smile was hesitant, but it was real, and the sight of it set off butterflies in her stomach, "Good, you should." They heard Sofia proclaim from down the hall that she was ready, and Callie called back, "I'll be there in a second!"

Before brown eyes turned to look at her and pearly white teeth sank into a bottom lip, "Arizona –"

And that was enough for her to briefly close her eyes, because _no one_ said her name the way Callie said her name.

"– I think this was good for Sof. If you're up to it we could do this sometimes? I've been thinking about it for a few weeks now. Maybe once a week you could come here or I could go…" she cut herself off, shaking her head and Arizona's stomach twisted because she knew that Callie just couldn't come back into the apartment they'd once shared, "… you can come here and we can have dinner? I just – she needs it, you know?"

And then she saw it. She saw a glimpse into Callie, something she hadn't had in so long, and it made her was to take Callie by the shoulders and shake her and tell her everything she was feeling even if she didn't have words for it. Because, Callie didn't see how much she had wanted to have dinner with the two of them. She didn't see how much being here tonight had meant to Arizona, and that made her want to cry because eating macaroni and cheese in this new kitchen had been the best dinner she had had in too long.

But instead, she just nodded, her voice quiet, "Yeah. I – that would probably be good for Sof."

That cautious smile came back and warmed a few more degrees, "Good. We'll work something out later, it doesn't have to be all set tonight –"

Sofia cut her off, wailing, "Mamiiiii, I said I'm ready!" from down the hall.

Brown eyes rolled, "One more minute!" before continuing, "So, yeah. It doesn't have to be immediate or anything. Just… it would be good, in the future." She gestured to the direction where their daughter was waiting, "I should…"

Once upon a time, Arizona would have gone down that hall with her. They would have walked, hands linked, down that hallway. They would have both sat in the bathroom while Sofia played in the water, making light chatter between the three of them, chatter that didn't really mean anything, but now it would have meant the world.

Dumbly, she just nodded, "Right."

Once upon a time. Once upon a time. Once upon a time. All of Sofia's stories started that way and ended happily. Before Callie could go, her hand reached out, and they were both startled at the skin on skin contact between them.

"Callie, I… we should do dinner every week. For Sof. And for – for us," before brown eyes widened too much, she quickly continued, her eyes on the ground because she just couldn't handle looking into Callie's and not being able to read them, "We, uh… you were my best friend for five years, and I miss that. I knew we're not – we're not…" she didn't know what they were or weren't, "I sometimes just want to tell you things, and you're not there."

For a second she thinks Callie is going to say something like, "And whose fault is that?" but she doesn't, and Arizona had never been more grateful. Instead, she just says, "Me, too."

* * *

Shaking her head, she looked at the woman, then at the other members in the group rather than lower her head, "It's not because she might be dating someone else. It's because she's… my… family," she settled on, and she just didn't know what else to say or how to explain to these people.

But they just took that as an answer and most of them just nodded before someone else started to volunteer their story and she sank back in her chair, feeling like a weight had been lifted off of her.

In the last week, she had not only talked to Callie, but had dinner with her. And she went to the meeting. God, Dr. Walker wasn't going to believe it. As a thrill made her stomach flip, she felt a smile pull at her lips. _She_ could hardly believe it herself.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think! Thank you so much for all of the reviews on previous chapters, they mean so much. Thank you for reading!**


	5. We Need to Talk

Twisting her hands in her lap, she chewed briefly on the inside of her cheek before looking up at Dr. Walker, "You know how we've been talking about how progress doesn't happen fast? And that it comes slowly? Is that… always supposed to be the case?"

She couldn't exactly say that she liked the questioning look the therapist was giving her, her voice suspicious, "It depends. Why?"

A small smile played at her lips while her stomach clenched in too many feelings that she couldn't differentiate between, "Because I've had a very... progressive week."

The therapist leaned forward in her seat, hands folded on the desk in front of her, "Last week, you had just had your second dinner with Callie and Sofia over at Callie's apartment. And things went well."

Arizona liked that Dr. Walker didn't need to look down at any sort of notes or reminders of what they'd talked about beforehand, and she nodded, "Right."

_She told herself that she didn't dress up just because she was going to have dinner with Callie again tonight. The jeans she wore that she bought recently after her family had moved out, when she had gone through a very large purging of emotions. Clothes. Bedding. Nothing had escaped untouched. They were all signs of the old life; the life with two legs, the life where she woke up every morning and felt like being with Callie was where she was meant to be and that nothing could or would touch that._

_These were jeans she'd bought afterwards, that might make her butt look just a little bit better than it might look in the pants she'd been wearing while she'd been at her apartment with Sofia. All right, so there was a possibility that she might have worn them just because she knew from previous experience that Callie really loved her butt. _

_But Arizona was now searching for a way in which to make her wife think of her as a wife again, and anything in her arsenal could help. If that meant pulling out desperate measures – small ones that were able to be pulled off without seeming obvious – then so be it. Because the other woman in her wife's love life was by no means subtle._

_She knew about Dr. Alicia Ross. She knew that they'd gone out on a date together on Monday night. And she knew that Dr. Alicia Ross had a really nice butt. A younger butt, because she was six years younger than Arizona was. _

_Because of their amicable – it could even be defined as pleasant – dinner last week, Arizona had even made it a point to stop by Callie's office to pick up some of those brochures that she'd mentioned about leg pain. As she'd knocked on Callie's door, lightly, as it was already open, she had stepped in._

_It was awkward. The smile Callie gave her – that slightly thawed, less distant but still not full-shine smile – was awkward. Her returning one was, too. That was where they were after not talking for two months beyond how Sofia was, then after having two dinners together. And it was better than how they had been a couple of weeks before that, so even though she hated the awkwardness between them, she also kind of liked it._

_The last time she and Callie had discussed these exercises she could do for her leg, it was in the first week she was home from the hospital, and she remembered it the same way she remembered most of her time in those first few months. She was hateful and bitter, and she'd thrown everything her wife said to her right back in her face._

_Even now, as they stood in front of each other, it was painfully obvious that Callie avoided letting their hands brush as she handed her the pamphlets with the exercises for amputees in order to relieve stress in aching muscles and joints. _

"_Thank you," she'd said, her voice quieter than she meant it to be._

_Callie's response was easy, "No problem." She hesitated for a moment before reaching out and stopping Arizona from moving, by putting her hand on the top of one of the brochures, and blue eyes had stayed glued to the strong ortho fingers as they moved, flipping to the third page and pointing, "I – I've gotten some feedback from patients before, and this one seems to work really well."_

_She followed her eyes down to where the fingertip pointed, not really taking in what the actual exercise was, but that their hands were so close she could feel the heat from Callie's practically touching her hand, and it made swallowing difficult for just a second. After she managed to do so, she nodded, "Oh, okay. Thank you," she said again._

_Lifting her gaze from the paper to Callie's eyes, she felt a smile come up. It was a small one, as she was used to, and kind of awkward still. But when Callie returned it, it felt nice, nice enough to make butterflies start to flutter in her stomach. _

_She wanted Callie to feel those butterflies, she thought, as Sofia tugged her down the hall. The toddler had asked earlier in the afternoon if she was going to stay for dinner again tonight, and ever since she'd answered the affirmative, her daughter had been all smiles. And if she was trying to use these jeans as an opportunity to make Callie try to start to see her as a romantic possibility again, then so be it._

_The apartment door was left ajar, and she let Sof push it open before she tentatively followed, closing it behind her. Apparently, she was moving too slow for her daughter's liking, and the little girl reached up and took her hand again, leading them to the kitchen._

_They round the corner together and came to see Callie just putting three plates down on the table, "My surgery ran a little late; I didn't want to make you wait around here while I cooked, so I just grabbed some pizza."_

"_Pizza's good," she answered. Honestly, the fact that her wife didn't see that she would be here for dinner with them if they were going to be eating __anything__ for dinner simply baffled her. Then again, she felt like she was having trouble getting a read on Callie, she could only imagine it was the same thing from Callie's shoes._

_When she'd moved to hang her jacket off the back of the chair, she noticed that Callie wasn't moving, but looking at her. The things that she'd thought were butterflies in her stomach started to become so intense she thought she might classify them more as frogs, and she thought for a fleeting moment that her jeans ploy worked. _

_Before she saw that those dark eyes were looking more north than south on her body, and her voice was low, "You're wearing your hair in a braid. Both of you are," she added on, her face automatically softening to a smile as she looked down at Sofia._

_Arizona automatically lifted a hand up, and ran it over the small braid she'd put in her hair, the one that started at her hair part, and ran down over her ear, woven into the rest of her hair, into her ponytail, her own gaze falling on the toddler, who wore a mirroring style, "I – she wanted me to braid her hair this morning."_

_And the toddler's dark hair was finally long enough to do something like this. Arizona couldn't deny that she loved seeing something that was so her, on Sofia. _

_Callie stooped slightly, to run a finger lightly over the braid in their daughter's hair, her eyes flickering back to Arizona's, brown eyes meeting blue and holding for just a second longer than would be casual._

Walker's voice pulled her from her thoughts, "So what happened this week? For progression?"

* * *

Her head was pounding. She really hadn't drank that much in... a long time. For extremely good reason, she was quickly remembering, as she squeezed her eyes closed against the morning sun that was pouring in through the blinds. Then her bed started to move a little bit, and she felt the presence of something else crawling up the comforter.

Confused, she opened her eyes only to close them again a moment later, her eyebrows drawing together, "Sof, how did you get in here?"

The toddler smiled triumphantly, "I climbed!"

Despite the hammering in her head, she sat up quickly, reaching for her daughter and pulling her into her lap. She had treated too many small children who had thought they could crawl out of their cribs on their own but had fallen or gotten hurt on the way down. As she ran her hands over the little body, Sofia giggled as if she was being tickled. Even though she didn't feel anything wrong, she pulled back to look into smiling eyes, "Does anything hurt? Did you fall?"

Her daughter just shook her head, "No, mama. I big girl!"

Strong relief poured through her and she held the little girl in her lap for just another second before pulling back, "_Don't_ do that again, Sof, I mean it," she told her daughter, who sighed a long suffering sigh that she didn't think a two year old should be capable of.

"Fine," the toddler huffed at her, but her attitude didn't remain for long, as she squirmed out of Arizona's hold and slid down, away from her, feet hitting the floor with a quiet patter, "Cereal!" she proclaimed, making her way back out the bedroom door.

Rolling her eyes toward the alarm clock, she saw that it was set to go off in less than a half hour anyway. God, she couldn't believe she'd gotten drunk, and subsequently hung over, from simply splitting a single bottle of wine. Lying back, she took a deep breath and rubbed her fists over her eyes, the sound of cartoons turning on from the living room making her grimace. It already felt like it would be a looong day.

It wasn't until she sat, eyes closed, in the chair that had been installed in the bathroom, under the hot shower spray, relaxing her head against the back, that she remembered in complete, full detail the night before. Her head snapped up, eye opening widely. Drunk dialing was something she had completely thought she had left behind in her early twenties.

Upon delivering Sofia to the day care and making her way to the coffee cart, she was actually, for the first time in a few weeks, happy that Callie had developed an entirely different morning coffee routine than she had.

Progress was supposed to mean building up their relationship, piece by piece, as they had slowly been starting to do in the last few weeks.

Progress definitely was _not_ calling her wife who happened to be estranged and was quite literally _this_ close to becoming her ex-wife while she was intoxicated.

Just as she reached for her cup, the woman in question's voice came from behind her, "Good morning. I had an… interesting voicemail last night."

Her hand that was wrapped around her cup froze, because she didn't know what kind of conversation she was in for when she turned around. She didn't know if Callie was going to be mad or amused or – or anything, and she really didn't know how she would react to any of those reactions. She would also be lying to herself if she said that the prospect of turning around and seeing her, talking to her, in this spontaneous, non-regimented morning didn't excite her.

The reason Callie had had her interesting voicemail last night was because Arizona had had and interesting night.

Teddy sat back on her couch, sipping at her glass of wine with a smile on her face, shaking her head slightly, "I can't believe that after almost four years, we're having a girl's night… and it's really just the two of us."

Arizona mirrored her pose, tipping back her head and finishing her glass of wine, already feeling the effect of the alcohol. She really hadn't had more than a glass of wine or a beer – all singular – since the crash. And after the last two glasses of wine, she was already starting to feel a light buzz setting in.

"Me, neither," she commented, nodding slowly as the taller blonde laughed, just a little bit. Turning her head, she gave her a slight smile, "You look good, though. Being a chief in the Army Medical Command is really agreeing with you, it appears."

And she did look good; she looked refreshed and happier than she had been from the time of Henry's death throughout when she'd left working at the hospital.

With a sigh, she shifted, turning her head and looking over at Arizona, "Thanks. It _feels_ good; I feel good. You…" she started to respond in kind, but trailed off, moving her eyes over the apartment, any sort of reciprocal words dying on her lips.

Pursing her lips tightly together, she let out a sigh. Teddy had come into the hospital today, surprising everyone except for Jackson, as she'd brought in one of the doctors she was working with in the army for a prospective job. She was only in town for the night, and she had asked Arizona if she wanted to go out and grab a few drinks.

But Arizona couldn't go out and grab a few drinks, because she had Sofia. It stunned her to think about how the last time Teddy had been available to ask her if she wanted to go for drinks, it was such an easy thing to say yes to. Because if Callie wasn't working and wasn't in the mood to go out, she would stay home with their daughter, and if not, then Mark could. Tonight, they'd waited until the toddler was tucked into bed an hour or so ago before breaking out the wine.

And that had only been just over a year ago. In that year, while it seemed to have rejuvenated Teddy, that was the worst year of Arizona's life.

In her buzzed mind, it made her giggle, just a little bit, "It's okay. You can say it. My life hasn't really gotten better," she replied, gesturing to the prosthetic that she had propped up on the table.

Teddy looked at her in disbelief, before throwing her head back in a laugh, "Honestly. I leave, and everything is good, and then I come back for a visit and… everything is different."

Drawing in a deep breath, she couldn't help but look in the direction of the framed photo that she has up of she, Callie, and Sofia that was taken less than a month before the crash. At her worst moments in the last few months, she wanted to tear through the apartment and take down everything that reminded her of those good times.

Everything that reminded her of Callie.

But that picture survived, even though some days she couldn't really bring herself to look at it. Because some days… some days there were the times where she looked at it, and the three of them smiling made her heart hurt in the best kind of way. The way Sofia's little baby hands were curled into fists, resting on top of Callie's hand, which was resting on top of hers. The way the baby girl was the only person really looking into the camera as Mark has snapped the photo, because she and Callie were both looking at each other.

Teddy looked in the same direction, and for the first time in the last few hours that they had been sitting in the apartment, she brought up the topic that they both knew was on her mind, "So… you've told me about Sofia. And yourself. But what's going on with you and Callie?" She grimaced at herself, then poured another glass of wine, "That sounded more tactless than I meant it to."

"No, no," she assured, then reached forward, pouring herself another glass, "Believe me, I don't deserve tact. The way our relationship deteriorated was tactless."

And for the first time outside of therapy, she'd relayed the story of her adultery. Not in full detail, not even so much as saying Lauren Boswell's name. Definitely not telling her the things she'd yelled at her that night. But the general details. All she really needed to know to understand that she was the one who had broken them up.

As she finished, she eyed what liquid was left in her glass, then shook her head, "Where that leaves us is… this strange… limbo place. We're married but we're not wives. We're friends but we're not friends. We're _aspiring_ to be friends. Or – I am." She frowned, thinking of Callie's eyes and smiles and face, "I don't know what she's aspiring to be." Then she rolled her eyes and shook her head, "No, I definitely think we're becoming friends."

Which was so completely different for them. From the very beginning, they were not friends. She and Callie had never just been _friends_; they were together. They were lovers first and friends second, and their romantic status had always gone hand in hand with that friendship.

Teddy gave her a slanted eyebrow look, "Friends only? You and Callie are…" she looked at the ceiling, searching for the words to say, "Callie and Arizona! There is no "just friends" for you."

Arizona closed her eyes as her mind yelled at her to agree with Teddy's words, but she _knew_ they were wrong, remembering their very non touchy or flirty dinner times and other small interactions, "We _are_ just friends. Barely. If that."

The other woman eyed her and shook her head, "But you don't want to be. I can read it all over your face."

It was her first reaction to chew on the inside of her lip, and disagree, "No." And she couldn't make eye contact with her, because she knew that was a lie, and instead sucked in a breath, her head falling back, "No, I – I can't do that to her. Just because I'm feeling good about myself, it doesn't give me the right to bring Callie down, right? It doesn't give me the right to decide to tell her that I want to be with her, right? Not when she's starting to move on," she added on with a scowl, her stomach aching painfully just thinking about it.

"Callie wants to be with you, Arizona. She has to, deep down because she's Callie. And you're you! You two were meant to be together, anyone with eyes – wait. Did you just say she's moving on?" Teddy sat up straight, gaping at her, waiting for an answer.

In response, she closed her eyes tightly and was unable to stop picturing Callie going out with someone else. Anyone else. Callie was so completely hers once, not long ago, and the thought of her dating someone else was so foreign. The sound of Callie and… anyone who wasn't Arizona sounded wrong to her.

But it was the ugly truth, "She is on a date, even as we speak."

Ugh, a date. She had never been a jealous person before. Never. Not until Callie. Even with her trust issues with women, they didn't result in jealousy, but usually an… indifference. It wasn't until she was with Callie Torres that she understood what it was to know that there were people who had intimately touched a body that she wanted to be only intimately _hers_. She didn't know what it was to want to physically itch to beat someone with a brick because they had touched that body that was meant for only her to touch, until Callie. And that jealousy had been fine, when they were married-married, and not separated, because she knew no one else would be touching her again. And now she didn't have that security.

It was through finishing her conversation with Teddy about Callie's newfound love life while also steadily working her way through a few more glasses of wine that had her winding up dialing her wife's phone number as the silence of the apartment after her friend left ate at her. She felt unsteady on her feet, especially walking intoxicated with her prosthetic, and as she managed to get herself into bed, collapsing onto her back, she couldn't stop but think back to the last time she was drunk.

It was after a successful surgery, and Mark had Sofia for the night. She and Callie had laid in bed together and she had, what Callie called, one of her drunk epiphanies. While her wife had chuckled next to her, Arizona had pushed herself up onto her elbow as they lied in bed, both of them half naked after not fully taking off their clothes before they'd fallen into the sheets, hands clawing at each other until they managed to slip into their sought after release.

While she had stared down at Callie, her dark eyes so _happy_, even as they were half closed with her post-sex mixed with liquor induced sleepiness, she was struck by how fucking perfect her life was. She'd never seen herself married or with a child, and in the past, she had thought that those would be things that would have made her marginally less happy. But here she was, intoxicated and laughing with her hot, hot _wife_, and the knowledge that she was going to be there the next day and the day after that made her feel… perfect.

Now, as she struggled with clumsy fingers to get her prosthetic off, she fell onto her back again, and looked to Callie's side of the bed. Her empty side that Arizona still had yet to sleep on. And her eyes filled with tears that she would like to blame on the alcohol but she knew they ran deeper than that at how not perfect her life was.

Her hands reached for the cell phone resting on the table next to her, fumbling it open and hitting the speed dial number one button, which was still programmed as Callie's. It rang all the way through, and she wasn't sure if she wanted Callie to answer or not, and even as a small voice told her to hang up as Callie's voicemail picked up, the logical part of her really wasn't the part that was ruling her actions.

"Hi – hey, it's me. It's Arizona," she closed her eyes tightly, even as she felt the wetness of the tears spill out the sides, "Are you still on your date? I – that was dumb. You know what else is dumb? Alicia has blonde hair and blue eyes. I have blonde hair and blue eyes. I'm sorry. I just… we should talk about dating other people right? Because we're still married. We're still – hmm. I just. You should know, I'm in therapy. I, um, I should probably hang up. Alicia seems nice," she added on, as her throat seemed to hurt too much to keep breathing while still stopping her tears.

Shaking her head against the pillow, she ended the call and let her phone slip from her fingers before closing her eyes as tightly as she could, just trying to forget… and the next thing she knew, it was the morning.

* * *

And now, she bit her lip, turning to look at Callie. She didn't look… mad, Arizona decided, as her stomach flipped. But she couldn't really tell what her wife was feeling, as she stuck her hands inside her coat pockets.

Clearing her throat, she managed to asked, "Interesting?"

Brown eyes looked over her face before drawing back up to her eyes, "Yes. Arizona… the last few weeks have been good. But your voicemail brings up the point that before we can actually be friends – or anything, really – we still have to talk."

Her heart hammered against her ribs and she held her coffee close to her chest so it wouldn't shake, "Talk," she repeated.

Those eyes closed briefly, before flipping open as Callie nodded, "There's a lot… we didn't talk about before, because it was too hard. But I think we can now."

Her eyebrows drew together and she looked down at her watch, "Now?"

And then Callie laughed and for some reason, it made her shiver; a good shiver, "Not now, specifically. I have a surgery soon. But now, as in… this weekend? We can eat lunch together; we're both on call Saturday."

Callie had made a point to look at her schedule and she wanted to have a meal together beyond their dinners with Sofia. God, she _wanted_ this, even if their lunch was going to be them talking about _that night_, and she found herself nodded, "Good. Yes. Saturday."

Dr. Walker was silent for a few moments, before she broke out a small smile, not that she often wore large ones, "So, you and Callie are going to really talk."

Drawing in a deep breath, she nodded, her nerves feeling fried, "This weekend, yeah. We're going to… talk," she repeated, lifting her eyebrows and drawing out a breath. Then she shook her head, her hands clamping together, "I – I don't know what to say to her."

She had so many things that she _wanted _to say, but didn't know how. Or if she even could. She wanted to explain where she was coming from that night, as the rain had poured outside, as the woman she had slept with stood within the same four walls. She wanted to apologize. She wanted to tell Callie that she loved her, even still.

There were so many things to say, but not enough words. Not _adequate_ enough words, really. So she looked to the therapist.

Who slowly nodded, "Well, we could practice what you should say. I could give you tips on how to articulate what points you want her to understand; but I'll give you my best piece of advice to you."

Walker paused, and Arizona found herself impatient, just giving her a _look_, shaking her head slightly, as if so say, "All right… go on…"

So she did, "In the last few months, I've found that you are really able to speak poignantly when it counts. _I_ know how far you've come, and I know that what you said to Callie that night came from a place inside of you that you kept locked up tight. It's not going to be easy to show that part of you to Callie, when she is so closely rooted to everything you've tried to stop yourself from feeling in the last year. But you two seem to have gotten to a point where you are both calm and able enough to really lay it all out. And that's all you need to do."

* * *

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	6. Begin to Rebuild

Tonight was the night. They were going to have another dinner between the two of them and Sofia, and she could just feel it in her bones, that tonight was going to be the night. She felt _good_. She felt like… like she could go after what she wanted. She felt like she wanted Callie and that she was whole enough to have a chance at having her.

But when she knocked on the apartment door, and it swung open to reveal Callie holding Sofia on her hip, that confidence drained slightly, and she gave her wife and daughter a small smile, as the toddler clapped, "Mama here for din!"

Grinning widely at the little girl, she reached out to take her from Callie and then followed her down the hall. After dinner. After dinner she would be ready. Their talk two weeks ago had left her feeling kind of drained. But in the best way possible. Drained, but hopeful.

* * *

Arizona found herself in the cafeteria on Saturday earlier than she and Callie's agreed upon one o'clock lunch. She chose a table near the back, and initially sat in one chair, on the side of the table that she would usually sit on for her lunches, in which she had a view of the food cart. Then her nerves got the better of her, and indecision came in, and she switched to sit so she was facing the entrance of the café, so she could look out for when Callie was going to come in.

With her typical lunch of a salad in front of her, she couldn't do more than pick at it as nerves tangled inside of her. Instead, her hands remained folded in her lap and she waited… after the five minute late mark, she was starting to wonder whether or not Callie had just decided that she wasn't ready for this. It had been nearly three months since that night.

That fight.

Her fingers were clenched tightly together, because this just wasn't who she was. The old Arizona was never afraid to have a simple discussion. The old Arizona used to look at situations like this and just… bite the bullet. Do what needed to be done and say what needed to be said and deal with the aftermath.

And now, here she was. Her stomach knotted up so tightly she wasn't entirely positive that she wasn't going to vomit. She'd said so many things, felt so many things, and they had unraveled in the worst sort of way that night; unraveled _them_. And completely unraveled her.

She'd been unraveled, laid out bare, and after taking the last few months to relearn herself, here she was.

Here they were, she though, and straightened in her seat as Callie walked in. She lifted her hand in a tentative wave, even though she knew Callie could clearly see her, before letting it fall back to her lap. Her wife nodded at her and moved to buy her own lunch before making her way over, she put down her food as she stood, lightly picking at the bottom of her shirt, "I – sorry I'm late. Surgery ran a little long."

She shook her head, and managed a small smile, "It's no problem."

As if her words allowed it, Callie pulled out the chair and sat down, her hands coming up to wrap around the base of the water bottle as silence stole over them. How could they bring up what they had to talk about? Of course there was so much to say, but how was she supposed to start it off? _So, that night that I cheated on you and then you found out about it…_

Even as words swirled in her head, anxious to end this awkwardness they were stuck in, her gaze moved from where it was fixated on her salad bowl, upwards as Callie lifted her hand to wave. Following the direction of her wave, her eyes landed on Alicia, who was giving Callie a bright smile.

Sucking in a deep breath, she looked at Callie's face, which wasn't in as bright a smile as Alicia's was, but what Arizona wanted to believe was one that was clearly telling this woman that her wave wasn't wanted at this time. Though it might have just been extreme wishful thinking on her part.

Clearing her throat, she started to peel at the label on her water, "So… how is that going? You and… Alicia?" God it was painful to even ask.

Callie bit her lip before shaking her head lightly, "It – I can't talk to you about dating someone else. It's just too strange. I can't."

"Okay, good," the words flew out of her mouth before she could control them, and they made eye contact. She couldn't _read_ those eyes, and she desperately wanted to know what Callie was thinking.

Those brown eyes had never kept secrets from her; they'd never been able to. Even in the beginning, that first night in that dirty bar bathroom…

_Her mouth was moving and words were coming out, explaining an explanation for why she'd been able to find out so much more about the Latina than she knew about her, but really, that wasn't what she was focusing on. As soon as she'd stepped in close enough, all she could see were how wide those dark eyes had opened, and how much they could express without Callie saying a word._

_There was sadness and a loneliness that Arizona could __feel__ in her own soul. There was a whole world living right inside those eyes, waiting for someone to come along and explore it. She'd always heard the expression that eyes were the window to the soul, but she'd never actually believed it. She knew women; she appreciated women. She knew and appreciated that there was a beauty that could be reflected in a woman's eyes. But she always laughed or choked back a laugh whenever she heard corny expressions like "I could just tell by looking in her eyes."_

_Because as she leaned into Callie, keeping their eyes locked, she could just tell by looking in her eyes. She could just tell that she was nervous, that she was surprised, and that there was an excitement in them that hadn't been there before as she got to just a breaths length away._

_She didn't know what possibilities lay before her and Calliope Torres, but she knew that she loved those eyes already._

But now they sat across from each other and those eyes were different now. They didn't whisper to her all of the secrets she wanted to know from inside her wife's emotions. They kept guard. And they were still the most telling feature she had.

"I just –"

"That night –"

They started at the same time, then both stopped and stared at each other for a second before cracking small smiles. Tapping her hands on her lap, she inclined her head, "You go first."

Callie nodded and took a deep breath, "I just wanted to tell you that I'm really proud of you. For – you said on the phone that you're in therapy. I think that's really great."

"It – it was hard to go in the beginning," she admitted, lifting her hand to tuck her hair behind her ear, "But it's been really great. I, um, I've been to a support group a few times, too," she said, and as the words came out, some of her nerves started to loosen a bit.

Because she _was_ doing so much better now. And seeing Callie's eyes widen in surprise made her feel unbelievably good, "That's – that's amazing. That's _really_ great for you. I'm, um, I'm glad you're getting the help that you need."

Her words reminded Arizona of the focus that their conversation needed to take, and the smile that had starting to form on her face faded, "Yeah… I really needed it," with a deep breath, she saw this as a good of a time as any to just dive in, "Especially after you left. I – looking around at how everything ended up and how it got to where it was, I just... I couldn't handle it," she finished, her voice hoarse, and because she needed to do something, anything, she unscrewed her water bottle and took a long sip.

Callie's voice was even lower than hers when she licked her lips before saying, "That was the worst night of my life." Her fingertips tapped against the table lightly before pulling in against her hand, forming a loose fist, "Not only because of you and…" she took in a deep breath and then slowly let it out, "But because of what you said to me."

Closing her eyes tightly, she nodded, "I know." She'd spend months thinking about them and wondering how in the world she'd let those things come out of her mouth, no matter what she was feeling inside. "I'm sorry," she stressed the word and she needed to know that Callie knew how much she meant it. And she was going to leave it at that, but then she reminded herself that this was supposed to be a talk where they laid everything out on the table. Despite her mind telling her not to say anything more, she forced out the words, "I apologize for the way I said those things, Callie, and for how it happened. I… I am so, so sorry. But I did mean some of them. We both experienced the crash, and it wasn't right for me to say that you didn't go through anything, but," she licked her lips and tried to find a way to say the words, "what bothered me was that you _weren't_ there. It wasn't something we could relate to on the same level, so there was a piece of me that got so upset when you would put yourself there."

She closed her eyes and waited for the aftermath. But it didn't come the way she expected, the way she knew Callie usually reacted. Instead, her wife's words were low and measured, "Arizona, you _made_ me go to those meetings for you. I kept telling you that you should go, and you sent me in your place. I was going to go _for_ Mark and _with_ you but… when I stood there for both of you, I felt like I was a part of it all."

She remembered those fights. When Callie had wanted to go to those settlement meetings… "At that point, I was having trouble getting out of bed in the morning. I didn't care about the legal stuff, Callie; it wasn't going to bring back my leg, no matter what we got out of it. And I know I sent you in my place. I _know_ I was wrong. But that doesn't change the way that I felt."

And then Callie asked, "What I really want – need – to know – how did it get to that point, Arizona? How could you feel so strongly and just pretend to me that you were fine? That _we_ were fine?" her voice rose for just a second, but then dropped back down, as her eyes dropped to the table, and she finished, "How did you let it get to a point where you hated me so much?"

Arizona opened her mouth to speak, and then words didn't come out right away, because she didn't know how to really explain it.

Which led Callie to continue, "I just… I thought… because in the beginning, and you stopped hating me so much, and things seemed so good…" she trailed off, and then looked back up at her, and Arizona expected tears. But there were none. There was just a searching look.

This time when her mouth opened, words came out without her really processing them, "_Because_ it wasn't all bad, Callie. I didn't… I didn't wake up every day feeling like I hated you or resented you or – anything. There were times when things were good, and during those times, I wasn't just playing you or even myself."

Because there were days there she would wake up and life didn't seem bleak or useless or like everything that might happen to her would just piss her off.

"Then what was it?" she asked, her voice low and just genuinely so confused.

"It was…" she rolled her eyes up, needing to find the right way to explain what she'd gone through, for months, "It was like, I told myself after the first few months that I needed to stop blaming you because I knew that if I didn't, it was going to eat up our entire lives and Sofia's life. So, I did little things like… watching TV with you and sitting with you and slowly, I didn't feel like I hated you anymore, but only because I was _making_ myself feel that way. The feelings were still there, but I knew that I had to find some way to stop them. It was like…" stupid Dr. Walker and her analogies, "It was like putting a blanket on over all of the bad things I felt. The blanket keeps everything warm… until that cold spot comes in, you know? And then you can cover that spot up, but then there's another one. And another. Until in the end, you have to pull off the blanket completely and readjust."

Did that make sense? She narrowed her eyes at the ceiling where they were transfixed before moving them back to look at Callie who stared at her for a moment before letting out a shuddering breath and her hands interlocked on the table.

"I think… I get it. I can kind of understand that that was how you felt, but I just can't understand why you felt that way. You're a doctor; you saw your scans and your file. It was either I make the decision to cut off your leg or you would have died. Your leg or your life – it didn't seem like a hard thing to choose," Callie rushed out, her voice hushed, "I _don't_ understand how you don't see that."

"I do! I do, all right?" the words weren't snapped, but more soft, as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she brought her hands up to run over her face, "Logically, medically, as a surgeon, I understand that you had that choice to make."

She thought back to one of the discussions that she'd had with Dr. Walker, in which the therapist had brought up the car accident that she and Callie had gotten into. If Callie's life had been on the line and if it was her leg that was causing the problem, what would she have done? And she knew that she would have made the call to cut it off.

"But – but emotions aren't logical, and you told me you wouldn't cut it off. I was so – so scared," her voice broke, and she cursed herself, "And when I was telling your how scared I was, you promised me you wouldn't let them cut it off."

It was the last piece of her that made her whole, and she'd thought her emotional damage was enough. But then her leg was gone, too, and so was a part of her.

Her eyes met her wife's and she was just pleading with her to make her understand. She didn't know whether or not she really did when Callie just shook her head, "Arizona… I didn't make that promise lightly. And I really didn't think that that was going to be the only choice I had, but when I had Alex in front of me telling me that you were _dying_ that that it was because of the leg –" she cut herself off and took a few seconds to breathe, "When that was happening, I thought I was doing what was best for you, and Sofia, and us. I thought you would have rather lived than died. I thought that after losing Mark that I didn't know how Sofia and I were going to survive losing you, too."

_Apparently, I lost you_. The words hung between them, glaring in their honesty.

Her quiet words dug right in to Arizona's chest, and she wanted desperately to take her hand, but she knew that she couldn't, "I know that. Callie, I _know_ that. And … it was so hard to accept it." She thought of the sleepless nights she'd had, the tears that had been sobbed, and the anger that took over her life, then closed her eyes and thought of how different she felt now, "It's not an easy thing to take in. But where I am now – I don't want to be dead. And I'm glad I'm here for Sofia because she really does make every bad day brighter. I just. I want you to know that _now_, I'm not…" fuck, the right words that she was searching for just wouldn't come to her tongue, "I don't hate you. And I don't hold it against you, anymore."

Brown eyes were wide for a moment before they narrowed at her. Not out of anger, but trying to decipher what she was saying, "You don't… I don't want you to say anything just because you feel bad. That's not what this talk is."

"I'm not," she was quick to answer and goddamn, she wanted Callie to just _see_. "I'm not just saying that. I – therapy has really, really helped me. And after you left, I felt," she bit her lip because it was just so hard for her to be saying this to Callie, when she spent so much of their relationship being the one who was "fine", "I felt empty, when you left. But in a way, I felt free. Free to – to hate you. And to be bitter. And that really hurt. Do you know how much it feels like it's tearing your heart out when you hate the person you love?"

She meant for the words to be asked in her head, and she didn't really think them through until Callie's quiet voice responded, "Yeah. I do."

And those words were aimed right at her. Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes, "I let myself really feel – everything. The blanket was completely gone. And it was terrible for days. Weeks. But, somewhere along the line… when I wasn't waking up with you, or going to bed with you, or really _being_ with you… when I realized that I wasn't obligated to make myself "get over" feeling all those bad feelings, then I was able to move past them." Her fingers tangled together and she looked up, finally looking at Callie, when she asked, "Does that make sense?" And then her eyes widened as she remembered something else, and she rushed to get it out of her mouth before her mind told her not to say anything, "And I never should have said what I said about cutting off your leg, evening the score, because I _did not_ mean that." Her body still made her want to revolt on itself when she remembered how those words had tumbled off of her lips, "No matter what I was feeling, I did not mean that. Please believe me," and she couldn't stop sounding desperate, because that's what she was feeling.

And her wife slowly nodded, "I… do. I do believe you. And I think I understand what you were saying before that. But I guess it really doesn't matter why, as long as it's over. And you were able to move on from it, meaning we can move on from that part."

Even though she told herself not to, she latched on to that "we" and her heart jumped up a notch, running with it, "We can?"

"Yeah. I think so. I mean, we've been getting along for the last few weeks, even though it's kind of weird sometimes," she let out a small laugh and diminished any of the anxiety that Arizona had built up during the conversation.

Mirroring it with her own, she couldn't help but feel excited as she agreed, "It is."

Callie continued, "So, I think, maybe we can be able to be friends? I know it might be even weirder at first, but I think it's really good for Sofia to see us be friends and," she bit her lip and looked down at the table before looking back up, "It's good for me, too. I do miss you. Even when I tell myself that I shouldn't…"

"You should," the words were rushed from her mouth and she rolled her eyes at herself, and then clarified, "I, um, I think it'll be good for me, too. I miss you, too."

Her wife's smile was the brightest Arizona had seen it in… so long, "So, do you want to stay for dinner when you come to get Sof on Monday?"

* * *

So she'd gone to dinner on Monday. And again on Wednesday. And again this past Monday and Wednesday. And they'd had lunch together at the hospital twice more in the last week, and they got to a point that they had never been at before. When she'd talked to Dr. Walker in their last session about what she wanted to do, the therapist had only told her to make sure that she wasn't rushing herself.

But she didn't feel rushed. She felt slowed. She felt like she wanted more than twice a week dinners and sporadic lunches.

By the end of dinner, as Sofia went to go pick up her backpack to go home with Arizona, the two women stood in the kitchen together. It was… easier between them now, and as the words swirled in her head, she tapped her hands lightly on her thighs, watching her wife out of the corner of her eye.

Callie could apparently tell that something was on her mind and she simply lifted an eyebrow, "Arizona? Are you all right?"

The time was here. It was now, especially before the little feet came running back in their direction. With a deep breath, she looked into those dark eyes, "I'm fine. I'm really good, actually. I just… do you want to go on a date?"

And she watched as those eyes widened and Callie repeated the words back to her as if in a daze, "A date?"

"Yeah," her breath burst from her in a quick exhale, "I mean, I'm not asking you to move back in or anything like that. Because that's not – not what I think would be best for us. I actually think our being apart has been good, for both of us." She took in Callie's confused nod.

"Me, too," her wife said the words, still in that strange tone.

The tone that prompted Arizona to keep talking, "Right, so the time apart has been good. It's let both of us take time to think and heal and be our own people, and I don't want to rush into anything. I'm not asking you out as your wife."

She could tell her explanation wasn't coming out as smoothly as she'd hoped when Callie still simply looked at her, "You're not."

Quickly, she shook her head, "No. No, because that's a lot of expectations and it would be complicated and this is… I want to know if I can take you out on a first date. A starting over date. I'm Arizona Robbins, and you're Callie Torres, and we're both pretty surgeons and –" oh, dear lord what was coming out of her mouth? Squeezing her eyes tightly closed, she just finished with, "So, I just wanted to know, if maybe you would want to go out on a first date with me?"

They couldn't pick up where they left off before, because it was in shambles. And they had both changed so much that it wouldn't be the same. But it could be something completely different being rebuilt in it's place.

Blue eyes looked up at her face while her heart pounded in her chest waiting for an answer.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think! Everyone who already has/does, thank you so much, I really appreciate your feedback. As always, thank you for reading. **


	7. Fountain Wishes

Arizona stared at the polished mahogany of the therapists' desk, shaking her head at herself, "I'm an idiot."

Dr. Walker simply lifted her eyebrows, "Why do you say that?"

Letting out a deep breath, she felt her stomach drop just thinking about it, "You were right; rushing things doesn't lead to any real progress."

"Ah," she let out a knowing, knowing sigh, "Is this about Callie?"

"Of course it's about Callie," she rolled her eyes up to the therapists' in a move that she feared resembled her daughters.

Thankfully, the other woman didn't comment on her facial expressions, "The last we talked, everything was good between you two. You'd talked to each other about the big fight, and you were starting to have dinners with her and Sofia regularly; Arizona, I know that might not be exactly what you're looking for, but that is _great_," she smiled a small, encouraging smile.

Which Arizona tried to return but her lips didn't really form it properly. Then she gave up the effort, "Yeah. That was where we were at, the last time we talked. And it was great. And I messed it up," she grumbled the last part, her fingers picking off a piece of invisible lint from her scrub pants. Not waiting for Walker to ask inevitably what Arizona was leading her to ask, she started to explain, "We were so good in the last two weeks, after talking. We had dinners with Sof and we had some lunches and it was getting so much less awkward. And I thought…"

She got ahead of herself was what she did.

* * *

"So, I just wanted to know, if maybe you would want to go out on a first date with me?"

They couldn't pick up where they left off before, because it was in shambles. And they had both changed so much that it wouldn't be the same. But it could be something completely different being rebuilt in it's place.

Blue eyes looked up at her face while her heart pounded in her chest waiting for an answer.

Callie's mouth opened just a little bit, her eyes wide, which didn't help Arizona's anxiety. Had that question really been that far out of left field? Did her wife really not think this was a direction that she wanted to be heading in?

She could vividly recall the first time she had asked Callie out on a date. On that elevator…

"… _so, if you're up for it, I'd like to take you to dinner," she stated, because it wasn't even asking at this point. She had kissed this woman – this gorgeous, intelligent woman – and it was good. She'd seen her around and heard stories about her, and they were good. She was slightly enamored with her already._

_But she wasn't nervous; she was confident. Because she was Arizona Robbins, and Callie, merely days ago, had approached her while she was on a date and just blew her right out of the water by telling her about herself and telling Arizona she was wrong. Which wasn't a move she had really encountered before, with newborns. And even though she knew she was on a date and that she should be somewhat embarrassed or – or something, she'd found Callie that night at Joe's incredibly hot._

_The point was, she wasn't nervous. She wasn't asking. She was stating, because it was already established that she was interested and that Callie was interested, and at this point it was just her righting a small wrong she'd made by turning Callie down at first. _

_And then those brown eyes looked down at her, and those perfect lips formed a contemplative look, "Maybe."_

_Arizona had to do a double take and her confidence slowly fell away, leaving not insecurity but bafflement, and for a second she had to narrow her eyes and think about whether or not she had just heard Callie correctly. Then the doors opened and the Latina was already starting to leave, and her absolute confusion showed itself, "Maybe?"_

_And there was the hot ortho resident, crossing her arms in her hot leather jacket, "Yeah, my schedule's kind of insane right now, so I'll, uh, get back to you." _

_There she was, dressed in leather and nonchalance, while Arizona took in the words slowly, unable to keep her bewilderment off her face. What in the world? Just two days ago, Callie was coming up to her at a bar, telling her about how she was missing out on dating her and now that Arizona realized that she might be missing out on something here, she changed her mind? She was Arizona Robbins! Maybe she shouldn't have changed her mind about newbo-_

_Then the elevator doors that were closing between them were blocked by an arm quickly shooting through them, and Arizona raised her eyebrows, wondering what in the world could possibly be said now, as Callie's voice, deliciously deep now without her apparently feigned indifference, "How's, uh, tomorrow?"_

_Tomorrow. How's tomorrow. God, Callie Torres… Arizona felt herself start to smile, it growing even wider as Callie smiled her super bright one back at her. Tomorrow, to Arizona, sounded perfect._

They stood in silence for a few more seconds before the brunette slowly shook her head, "I – Arizona, I'm not there yet. With us, I just can't."

This wasn't nonchalance and she wasn't baffled; if life went the way she wished it did, the way she had thought it would, she and Callie wouldn't be here, worse off than they had been before they're first ever date.

The balloon that was blowing up in her chest, the imaginings she had had of them going on a date, of finding _them_ again sometime in the near future sharply deflated and she could feel her head numbly nodding, "Right. That's – that's fine," but the words sounded hollow even to herself.

Callie's hand lifted between them for a second, and it looked like she was going to put it on Arizona's shoulder, but then it fell back down as Callie opened her mouth to speak, but it took a few seconds before she said, "I'm sorry."

Quickly, she shook her head, disappointment and just plain _sadness_ casting over her, and her voice was tighter than she meant for it, "Don't be. You have nothing to be sorry for."

Because she didn't. It was Arizona's own fault that her wife couldn't handle going on a date with her. Clearing her throat, trying to make it sound like she didn't feel the urge to simultaneously cry and bash her head against a wall for being so incredibly stupid, she had never been more grateful to hear the small footsteps running back down the hall, hearing her daughter's proclamation, "Mama! I finded Beary!"

Beary was the name of the worn bear that she'd been carrying around with her to sleep with and play with at her mother's apartments in the months of their separation. And her clutching the soft bear in one hand and appearing from running down the hall with a smile on her face and her backpack on was Arizona's signal that she was ready to go.

She'd never before thought her daughter had such incredibly perfect timing, and she bent slightly to avoid looking at Callie and forced herself to smile even though she really didn't feel like it, "So you and Beary are ready to go?"

Sofia gave her a fast nod before walking to Callie and wrapping her arms around her leg, "Bye Mami! I see you soon!"

Callie sent their daughter a smile that mirrored the toddlers and Arizona wondered how she did it. Then again, she guessed that she wasn't feeling this weird deflating feeling that the blonde was currently experiencing, "Bye mija. I love you."

Sofia was already marching out the door in that determined walk that Arizona sometimes thought was a mix of her, Callie, and Mark all rolled into one. She snuck one last look at Callie who gave her a small wave that she managed to reciprocate before following the toddler out the front door.

It wasn't until they were on the elevator and she was staring at the doors, just thinking about five years ago when that arm, that strong, sexy forearm in a sexy leather jacket, poked through and stopped it from closing. But that wasn't her life now. That wasn't their life now and an arm wasn't going to coming through and stop her from leaving and say, "ha just kidding, I'm completely over your infidelity! Let's date."

Blue eyes only looked away from those doors, even after they had closed, when her daughter's small hand wrapped around her fingers, "Mama, you sad?"

Quickly nodding her head and refocusing her attention to Sofia, she managed to give the little girl a smile, more genuine than before if only to soothe that worried look in those big brown eyes, "Yeah, baby, Mama's fine."

* * *

Letting out a deep breath, she reached up to swipe her hair back and into a ponytail, "So, that's how _that_ went. It was dumb of me to think… that just because we talked about our issues and were managing to be friendly or friends, or whatever that she was ready to…" she cut herself off and just shook her head.

"How have things been between you two since then?" Walker asked, lacing her fingers together on the desktop, "Did you have Wednesday night dinner with Callie and Sofia last night?"

She closed her eyes briefly, "Uh, nope. Callie picked her up a few hours later than usual. Because she had a date with Alicia." It made the back of her eyes fucking burn to know that Callie was able to go on a date with another woman but not with her and she sighed, "You were right. I was trying to progress too fast, and this is what happened."

"Arizona," Walker's voice came in her way of being both soft and firm at the same time, "Stop saying that I am right. You weren't skipping any steps on your road to healing your relationship with Callie. If _you_ genuinely thought that it was a right time for you to ask her on a date, then it was the right time, for you. But you can't control when it will be the right time for Callie."

The way the therapist ended her sentence made Arizona know what words were coming next and she dreaded hearing them.

Then they were said, "And there is the possibility that you might have to accept that Callie might never be "there" yet, for the two of you."

She knew that that was a possibility. Of course she knew that. But thinking about it made her stomach feel like it was going to both drop to the floor and come up in the form of vomit, "Well, I can't accept that."

Hating the look that the therapist gave her, she avoided making eye contact and looked back down at her lap, continuing on before she could say anything else, "You know. What I want now – my wife back, to have my daughter home every day – that wasn't what I ever thought I would want. Before I was with Callie –" she took in a deep breath and let it out to close her eyes and think about her life as her thirty-three year old self.

"– I thought I knew what I wanted. What I was sure about was that I wanted to be a kick-ass, world renowned pediatric surgeon, and I wanted a woman with me who understood my job and was successful on her own and we would go on vacations and drink sangria and… marriage was optional. Kids were never part of the picture. That wasn't even my young, unsuccessful doctor dream. That was my dream after I was already successful," and now that dream seemed so empty.

"Then I fell in love with Callie and the dreams that I had were finalized and they came true; I was a surgeon and I had that successful, beautiful woman with me. And… Sofia was never part of the plan, but now when there's a day that I don't see her little smile, I, um," words were becoming more difficult to her now, and she hated that her eyes clouded with tears, "I hate those days."

Trying to reign in her emotions, she looked up at Dr. Walker who was looking at her with a sympathetic look, in such a rare way that didn't make Arizona hate it, like she usually did with sympathy.

"Can you understand? I can't… start over from scratch again. I can't _go back_ to the dream of just finding a woman to fall in love with and being happy with that. All I can do now is want this dream. Want Callie and Sofia. And I can't even think about accepting that it's unattainable, because I can't give up on this," her voice rose slightly by the time she finished and she lightly banged down her palm on the arm of her chair, as if that finalized her words.

Because she didn't give up on being with Callie when she left her and flew around the world. She'd gone to Africa and left her in an airport and then Callie had _slept with Mark_ and was pregnant with his child. And if her determination to be with the woman she loved got her through that, then it was damn well going to get her through this.

Her eyes widened at herself, at the forcefulness of her own thoughts, before Walker's voice brought her out of them, "Well, then. I don't think I've heard that much out of you or ever heard you be so sure of yourself. You coming in here telling me that you've messed up your progress, simply isn't true. And I want you to continue on your path of trying to be with Callie again; however you need to keep in mind her feelings and thoughts. You can't rush her. And even though it is hard to hear and in the beginning, you might not know how to go about moving on, but it still might be good for you to keep in mind that it might have to be an option."

She knew Dr. Walker was right, and she reluctantly nodded, "I know," she responded, her voice quiet. But she knew that she wasn't going to give up on Callie, even as she closed her hand into a fist and promised herself that she wasn't going to rush the Latina. Or herself, the thought entered her mind. No rushing, for either of them.

* * *

That evening, she found herself walking in the park as the sun was setting in the sky. Even though she mostly only came to the park when she had Sofia, tonight… tonight instead of feeling that aching feeling in her leg like all she wanted to do was get off of her feet, she felt like _walking_.

It was a new feeling, because no matter how much better her leg was feeling or she was feeling about it in the last year, she never felt like she wanted to be physically active with it. Of course, she would make herself do it, but the fact that she wanted to talk a walk outside as the sunset around the park was just… foreign. And invigorating. And she found that she didn't keep her eyes on the ground or on her feet, just to see whether or not she got the least bit thrown off by her prosthetic.

Her earlier in the afternoon, her session had ended quickly after their chat about possibly moving on from Callie, sometime in the future, which she was grateful for. Because she'd stewed on that topic for so long for the first two months of their separation and whether or not that would be what was best for her, for them, for Sofia… and now that she knew that wasn't the direction she wanted for her life, it wasn't a future she liked to think about.

Right before she'd left the hospital, she had had one last consult. In oncology. With Alicia, AKA Dr. Ross AKA the woman who was dating her wife.

_Making sure to keep her face fixed in a… god, she didn't know if she could call it a smile, but it was definitely a pleasantly neutral expression, she thought. And honestly, she was sure that was enough. _

_Kicking up her pace a notch to reach the nurse's station, where she had planned on meeting Alicia, she mentally started to review the general facts about the case that she knew of. There was a sixteen-year-old boy diagnosed with leukemia, stage three. As far as her knowledge of him went, he had undergone two surgeries and a treatment of – _

_Everything cut itself off as she was about to step out from the hallway before she heard someone ask, "So, Alicia, how was your date with Dr. Torres?"_

_The woman – she chanced a peek around the corner to see who – it was an oncologist who specialized in lung cancer, whose name she couldn't quite remember. But she lowered her voice in a suggestive tone when saying Arizona's wife's name, and she didn't like it. For just a second, her brain told her to step out from behind where she was standing so that she didn't eavesdrop any farther._

_She had avoided the gossip mill as best as one could while working here ever since her life was the main topic in it a few months ago. But she really wasn't going to get any details concerning Callie's love life anywhere else, now, was she?_

_Alicia's voice didn't sound nearly as light-hearted as she responded, "Shut up."_

_Which definitely grabbed her interest, and apparently Dr. Suggestive Tone's as well, "So… not good? I thought you were going to make your move! You've been going on dates for almost a month, and still nothing? Callie Torres is hot!"_

_Yes she was, the voice inside of Arizona's head yelled in victory, and apparently Alicia Ross wasn't experiencing just how hot she was. _

_Alicia didn't sound nearly as pleased as Arizona's mind, "I'm aware of all of that, thanks. But… it's… complicated. She's still married –"_

"_To a woman who cheated on her," the other woman butt in with a scoff._

_Alicia ignored her, "She's still married and – all right, I was going to make my move. I tried!"_

"_And she shot you down," the other oncologist said, her empathy apparent in her voice, as Alicia became noticeably glum even just through her tone._

_Her inner self continued it's victory dance – because maybe Callie was able to date other people and not her, but it wasn't going anywhere serious. She knew that she had no right to be angry with Callie for going out with Alicia, and she really wasn't. But it still was like a stone slamming into her gut every time she thought about it. And now, that stone was slightly lighter. _

_In fact, it was a lot lighter. And now she was sure that the look on her face was pleasant, and she decided that she'd spent enough time creeping behind the corner. Fixing a smile on her face, she nodded to both of the women as she stepped toward them, "Good afternoon."_

_The way they both stood up straight from where they'd been leaning against the counter made her feel satisfied, and Dr. Suggestive Tone hastily made her exit after giving her a quick wave, leaving her with Alicia, who gave her a look that she thought was supposed to be a smile but resembled more of a grimace, "Dr. Robbins, thanks for coming up."_

_Still smiling, she reached out her hand to take the chart, "It's no problem, Dr. Ross."_

Being happy about something like that made her feel incredibly immature… but at the same time, she told herself that it was a logical thing to be happy knowing that there wasn't another woman touching her wife, even if they were separated.

Her leg wasn't even throbbing with a dull pain the way she had grown to expect it to after a shift at the hospital, especially with prolonged activity with it. It – she – felt… alive. As she drew closer to the area of the park that had benches forming a circle around a fountain, she recognized a familiar voice speaking in a low coo, and her eyebrows drew together even as her heart pounded, "Callie?"

And then she walked closer, and was able to see passed a cluster of bushes her wife sitting on one of those benches. Sofia sat in her stroller right in front of her, as Callie gently pushed it back and forth. Their daughter was on her better way to being three by now, and they'd given up pushing Sofia around in the stroller except for very rare occasions. Well, she'd given it up completely, but it appeared that Callie hadn't.

Those deep brown eyes peered up, her expression clearly surprised, "Arizona? What are you doing here?"

She looked down at herself, in a light jacket and yoga pants, "I, um, I wanted to go for a walk."

Callie's eyebrows drew up even higher, "Oh. That's… really great."

She thought about the many times Callie had asked her if she wanted to take even a small walk around the block to try out her prosthetic, and all of the many times she had shot her down.

Shaking her head, she came closer, peering down at her daughter, who was wrapped tightly in a blanket, her bear clutched under her arm, "What are you two doing here?" she asked, instinctively lowering her voice as she could see how Sofia's eyes – though still just barely open – were drooping and how close she was to sleep.

It was past her bedtime, by about twenty minutes, and Arizona could see the pout that was still visible on the toddler's face as her eyes were red and puffy. She reached down brushing her hand over dark hair, loving how Sofia didn't even have to open her eyes and focus on her before she whispered, "Mama."

Callie's voice was also low, as she answered, "Sof had a tantrum. A big one. I, um, walking through the park, and especially just rocking at the fountain is the best way I've found to calm her down. So, if I have time…"

As Callie trailed off, her eyes focused on the nearly snoozing toddler, Arizona focused on her. Because these bedtime tantrum walks weren't something Callie had ever done when they were together; because when they were together, Arizona was the quick fix to soothe their daughter's tantrums.

When Sofia had been born, it was Callie and Mark who had physically made her and brought her into the world. But she was the one who _saved_ her and kept her in it. And when she'd first put her stethoscope against that tiny, tiny chest and heart – felt – her heartbeat, she knew that Sofia was hers, too. And then, the first night that Sof had thrown her uncontrollable tantrum, Mark couldn't get her to calm down and he'd called both of them over. As soon as she held her baby, put her against her chest and just bounced for a few seconds, those dark baby eyes had just gazed up at her and her hand had wrapped around Arizona's index finger, and she… calmed.

Callie had eventually come to find her own way of soothing her, but it took a while, no matter what she did. Those late night tantrums were Arizona and Sofia's time, and those were the times where she would hold that little body against her and they would make eye contact and her daughter would give her a sleepy smile and wind down. And then, back… then, she would look up and made eye contact with her wife, and Callie would give her a bright smile, and she would whisper to Arizona how much she loved Sofia and her mama.

And now, Callie's best way of getting Sofia to calm down quickly was to rock her in a stroller near the fountain in the park.

"If you… ever don't have time to come here at night and she's being a handful, you can always call me," she offered, the words slipping out before she could tell herself not to say anything, and she made herself quickly look away from her wife's face and down at the toddler, whose eyes had completely closed.

She could _feel_ Callie's wide eyes on her, surprised at the offer, "I, uh… I might. Sometimes just hearing your voice can calm her down."

"I could come over, too, if she needs it," she quickly said, and wondered if she would be able to handle that… putting Sof to bed in Callie's apartment with Callie there, like they were a real family again. And she quickly decided that even if it felt like pain, it would be the most pleasurable pain for her heart to be in.

"Yeah," Callie's voice was quiet, pensive almost, and she moved over just a little bit from where she was sitting, and Arizona recognized an invitation when she saw it and quickly moved to sit next to her.

Drawing in a deep breath, she looked at the fountain that she often walked around with her daughter, where there were many of her pennies that Sofia liked to throw in by the fistful, all of her wishes made on them. The lights from under the water suddenly flickered on, a time release as the sun was going down, and she shifted a bit so she could just watch the way they reflected off of Callie's face.

God, she was so beautiful. Even though she looked so… down. So lost in her thoughts. So reserved in a way that Arizona had never associated with Callie. She ran her eyes from looking at those deep brown ones as they looked into the water as if searching for answers, then over her straight nose, and down to where her lips seemed to be turned into somewhat of a – not really a frown, but they weren't happy. It was that same thoughtful look reflected in her eyes.

She drank in the profile of her wife, taking her time, because she hadn't had the opportunity to do so in such a manner – sitting this close, next to a fountain, as the sunset – in so long, and the last time she _had_ had the chance to do so, she didn't want to take advantage of it. And then the face that she'd been so steadily staring at turned to face her, and she nearly jumped as brown eyes caught blue ones.

It was her initial reaction to apologize, but then she wondered why she was apologizing for simply looking at her wife, who was probably the most beautiful woman in the world.

Her mouth opened to do so anyway, but before she could say anything, Callie leaned forward, and those lips – god, those lips – pressed against hers.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think! Thank you so much for everyone who already does, your reviews are amazing. Thank you so much for reading!**


	8. Try To Start Again

Even though it had been – what, nearly an hour? – Arizona could still feel Callie's lips on hers. It was like they were permanently imprinted on them, the feeling stuck with her and she wondered when it was going to fade away. Was it going to fade away?

Frustrated, she ran her hands through her hair, only getting her fingertips in before gripping and pulling just slightly, she paced. The third floor apartment door in front of her was closed tightly, and the silence surrounding her in the hallway was normal for Callie's apartment building that was mostly filled with older couples. But right now it felt like it was oppressing her, yet making the every sound she made echo down the hall.

She wanted to knock. She'd come all the way here to knock and to say… words. Words that she couldn't think of at the moment, but things had to be said. Taking a deep breath, she took a step toward Callie's door and lifted her hand, then stopped. God, she wished she had Dr. Walker's phone number.

Now, she was the woman who wished she could talk to her therapist before going through with making big life changes. And, damn it, she didn't care. Fine, so that was who she was. Walker always asked her the right questions and made her think about the right things, helped her come to conclusions.

Actually, she kind of wished she could have a cigarette _and then_ go talk to Walker. What she wouldn't do for just a quick smoke right now, giving her a moment to think, to gather her thoughts, and to wind up all of her courage…

Great, now she had two vices. Walker should really be the only feasible one, but she was completely unavailable, given that it was after eight at night and she wasn't desperate enough to find some way to track down the doctor right now – she wasn't that desperate, was she?

Okay, no. But she could just turn around and leave and make like she was never here, at least for a while. A few days. Long enough to process everything and talk to Dr. Walker. Letting out a groan, she pressed her forehead against the wood door, as if doing so would make her any closer to understanding the woman who was inside, understanding… anything.

Damn, she really was itching for a cigarette.

_The pack of Marlboro reds sat in her hands, just barely dangling out of her fingertips because she felt disgusted at holding them in her hands. At seventeen, Arizona knew smoking was something the Colonel would __not__ allow in his house, from his children. Yet, here was the freaking pack of cigarettes, half empty._

_The bedroom door behind her opened, and she turned slowly, holding out the small box before throwing them to Tim. He had excellent reflexes, and yet he was so surprised by seeing his sister standing there that the box hit his chest, bounced off and nearly fell to the ground before his instincts kicked in and he snatched them up, quickly closing the door behind him as he hissed, "What are you doing with these?"_

_Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head, but she was mindful to keep her voice down, "Me? I found them out on the front steps. What were you doing with them?"_

_He tucked the pack away in his pocket, patting them there carefully, before narrowing his eyes, "How did you know they were mine?"_

_She shook her head, "Because I know they weren't moms or dads and they definitely weren't mine, so I figured you were the logical guess as to whose they would be." Slowly walking forward, she sat heavily on the edge of his bed, "What are you doing with them?"_

_Tim ran one of his hands over his hands, letting out a sigh before saying, "I, uh… one of the guys I served with, McNaughton, he smoked. When he got stressed, he smoked. Said it helped. I told him he was an idiot, but." He stopped, and sat next to her, his mattress dipping, their shoulders barely touching as he shook his head, "But, we were friends. And when he died, I picked up his lighter and his pack of smokes, and I went through the whole pack." Reluctantly, he moved his other hand and reached for the bedside table, pulling out the drawer and flipping open the old fashioned, metal lighter, showing her, as he stared at it with haunted eyes._

_She knew that was as much detail as she was getting. Her brother was almost twenty now, and he'd returned from his first tour a few months ago. Before, he was open with her. They used to talk for hours, about anything because they were all each other had. And now, they still talked. He was still her best friend. But he was different. Tim saying "he died" was the extent to which she would be hearing of his friend's death. _

_And even though she knew it was stupid, she didn't have it in her to reprimand him the way she'd been planning to. Instead, she leaned her head on his shoulder, "Did it help? Make you feel less stressed?"_

_She felt his arm wrap around her shoulders, "Well, I'm still smoking them, aren't I?"_

_The first time she lit one up was when her first patient died, the first week of her intern year. She was the first person in her class to lose someone, and it was absolutely freaking miserable. Never having felt so stressed, she bought a pack and a hot pink mini-lighter and smoked one. It was awful and she coughed ridiculously hard, almost like she was coughing up a lung and she threw the pack in the bottom of the drawer in the table in her foyer and left them there._

_Until a month later, when Tim died. And with the small belongings they got back from him, came that small, metal lighter buried at the bottom of the other things. As if ruled by a foreign body, her own hand reached down and wrapped around it, clasping it tightly in her fist and not letting go until she went back to her apartment. And revisited that pack of cigarettes. And then kept revisiting them._

She became somewhat of a compulsive chain smoker for that period in her life, even as her doctor's mind told her she shouldn't. She _knew_ she shouldn't, but every time she smoked she felt like Tim was sitting there, with his arm around her, telling her she would be less stressed and that everything would be a little better.

Her very last cigarette had been right after Sofia was born. Because she didn't want there to be any case where her daughter saw her smoking and thought it was okay. Because she wanted to be there for every moment in Sofia's life that it was possible for her to be there for. It had been nearly three years since she gave into temptation, and right now she really wanted – no.

A cigarette wasn't going to make this better. Dr. Walker might be able to clarify for her, but she wouldn't be able to give Arizona any solutions, either. The only thing that was going to make anything better between she and Callie was the two of them.

And that had to start with her. With a deep breath, she lifted her hand and knocked on the door, rapping with her knuckles, quickly dropping her hand back down and biting her lip, looking up at the peephole in the door.

God, this was so strange. It was the first time she was coming to Callie's apartment this late at night. The first time she was coming here without the intent of picking up or dropping off Sofia.

And as she heard Callie's footsteps coming closer and closer, her heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest. She could see the shadow of her feet under the door, hear how her wife was paused just on the other side. It was weird, how there was only less than a foot of space between them and yet they were so completely blocked off from one another.

The longer she stood there, she started to feel fidgety. Like she needed to go back to pacing, but how could she go back to pacing, when Callie was right on the other side of the door, watching her. Debating whether or not to open the door and let her in to say the undefined words she had stuck in her throat.

God, what if Callie wasn't even going to open the door?

Everything came to a halt as the door swung open and her wife stood there, her arms folded over her chest as if she was guarding herself from any sort of emotions Arizona might make her feel. She had that guard back up, Arizona thought, and she really hated it. She wanted to take it and tear it away and throw it out and make Callie just show her what she was thinking and feeling so then she could better know what to say to help fix them.

"I uh," her mouth fell open while she scrambled for something to say, "I think maybe we should talk?"

* * *

Callie's lips had always been so soft and giving, and they were so incredibly talented. And right at that second, as they touched Arizona's, she was positive those lips had never felt better. Her stomach was fluttering and all she could hear in her head was her heart beating, as her thoughts raced.

What did this mean?

Did this change anything between them?

Why was Callie kissing her?

God, it felt so good.

It was arguably one of the most innocent kisses she'd experienced in _years_, but it was… her wife's lips were feather-light over hers, just barely putting pressure on hers. There was no movement, no tongue or teeth, none of that. There was just this so, so gentle sensation of her lips brushing against Callie's and she was just holding her breath, because she was terrified that if she did so much as breathe, it would all be over.

Her hands clenched in her lap, and it was all she wanted to reached them up and touch Callie – her jaw, her arms, her hair, anywhere – and pull her closer. She wanted to move her face and be able, be allowed, to move her lips over her Callie's face and apologize for everything that had happened – just one last time – and tell Callie that she badly wanted her and Sofia to come home and that they could be together now and she would keep getting help even though she was a little bit better now and that she would keep getting better.

But she sat, her spine straight up and still, her face and lips unmoving, wondering desperately what this meant. What was going through Callie's head. If and when she was going to lean back and disconnect them or –

Then Arizona's hands clenched as tightly as they possibly could, her knuckles white, and her eyes opened as it was like some switch was flipped inside of Callie and all of the sudden those lips applied more pressure, opening against hers and Arizona's opened in response, her nerve endings feeling like they were setting on fire as Callie's tongue sought out hers, stroking against it lightly.

Blue eyes felt like they wanted to close, but she couldn't let them because she wanted to memorize this, again. She knew this sight, the way Callie's eyelashes looked as her eyes were lightly closed, the way her wife looked as they kissed, but it was a sight she hadn't seen in too long, and she craved it the same way she craved nipping her teeth into that full bottom lip, the way she craved moving her hands to touch Callie.

But she couldn't do those things, and it was all she could do to take in the way her wife tasted and the way she looked as their mouths danced together in such a familiar, yet new way.

She couldn't keep her eyes open anymore once that tongue slid against the underside of hers in a way that Callie had learned very quickly in their relationship that she loved, and just as her eyes slid closed, those long fingers sent shivers up and down her spine as one slid into the base of her hair, right under her ear, and the other held her jaw gently in place.

And god, she didn't care why this was happening, anymore. She wasn't going to question and miss this moment by thinking, because she wanted to just enjoy. As soon as she let go of that, her hands climbed out of her lap and shakily sought out purchase on Callie's hips.

It was that movement that made Callie – and Arizona's entire world – freeze. It was her own movement that caused everything to come to a screeching halt, and before she could even register what was happening, the hands she had wanted on her body were gone from where they had been cupping her face, and they were on her hands, gripping them. Not in the way that meant she wanted to hold the blonde's hands but in the way that she quickly removed them from her body.

Arizona sat shock still, even then, her eyes stuck open watching Callie while her brain kick started itself once more. What – why – what –? Her mouth hung open from the kiss, her eyes wide, breath starting to rush in and out of her lungs as Callie quickly slid backwards on the bench, putting more distance between them, her arms wrapping around herself, her voice low as she shook her head, "I can't. I'm sorry, I shouldn't… I can't."

Shaking her own head as if to clear her daze, she wanted to slide forward and reach out to Callie again, to touch her anywhere and feel the connection that she had thought they lost but was definitely still there. But she didn't, and her own voice was hoarse, "You don't have to apologize."

And then the Latina quickly stood from the bench, brushing her hands over the front of her jeans, "I do. And I have to go. I, uh, Sofia needs to be in bed by now, anyway."

Still feeling like… crap, she didn't even know how to describe it. She felt like she was in shock, and she felt turned on, and most of all, she'd felt hopeful. And now, as she watched Callie quickly walk away from her, she felt that hope quickly go down in flames and too many insecurities start to flare up.

* * *

For long seconds, long enough to make her mouth run dry, long enough for dark eyes to sweep over her and then close, clearly deliberating whether or not she wanted to let Arizona in. Then she stepped to the side.

Walking over the threshold, she stood in front of Callie and her mind tried to find the next thing to say – "we should talk" is usually proceeded by the actual talking, she berated herself. But she didn't know what to say. She wanted to tell Callie that kissing her was the best thing to happen to her. She wanted Callie to tell her what was going through her mind. She wanted… she wanted many things.

And then Callie closed the door behind her and started them off without Arizona needing to say anything, "I shouldn't have kissed you."

The little hope that had remained after Callie had quickly rushed off diminished that much more, and she really didn't know what to say in response, except for, "I'm – I'm not. Why are you?" What does it _mean_?

Callie's tongue poked out as she licked her lips and shook her head, "Because… I…" and then that guard fell just a little bit as she dropped her head back and groaned into the air, her hands coming up and dragging through her hair, "Because, Arizona, I just needed to _see_. I – god, I can't touch Alicia or let her touch me because all I think about is you and I can't let you touch me because all I think about is you touching her."

As the words sunk in, she looked up at Callie in confusion, "I've never touched Alicia."

Callie stared at her and Arizona understood what she meant just a second too late, as her wife was already starting to speak, "Not Alicia. _Her_. I, uh," she had to clear her throat, before she shocked the blonde, taking Arizona by the wrist and pulling her hand up, looking down at it, "I see these hands and I think about how they touched her. And when my hands were just on you, I just – I see hers. I _think_ about how her hands were there and everywhere else. And I remember when you came back from Africa and how you hated the thought of someone else's hands on me, but, shit Arizona we were _married_!" That warm hand dropped Arizona's wrist and it fell limply back to her side as Callie's voice was so laden with emotion it jarred her, "And I get that it was about the leg and the crash, and we've talked about that and I _get_ it." She brought up her hands again and rubbed at her eyes, her voice lowering back down, "We've talked about the why, but I'm still not over the act."

She wasn't over her physically cheating, the blonde realized; of course she wasn't. Arizona could replay that night in her mind, and for some reason in the most idiotic way, she had thought that because they talked about the reasons behind her adultery that they had really already gone over it. To her, it wasn't about Lauren, it was about all of the underlying reasons. But she'd committed the ultimate betrayal to her wife, and it wasn't just about the feelings, but the actions.

Callie continued, "I know how much you couldn't stand me, but why was cheating the answer? Why was… why?" For the first time, Arizona can hear the emotion in her voice, the way it wobbles for just a bit before she knuckles away a tear and Arizona feels like she was hit in the stomach.

Quickly, she shook her head in denial, "It wasn't the answer. Doing it made me feel good in the moment, Callie, but not afterwards. I was hurting and… and…" her breath started coming quicker and she felt like she wanted to cry, but then she felt stupid because she had no right to be the one crying here, right? "I can't explain myself to you. Nothing I say can make my having sex with Lauren go away or make you feel better about it. Nothing I say can make my hurting you, right. What I did… was – is – inexcusable."

Her wife's shoulder's sagged and she stared at the ground for a long moment, taking in Arizona's words before her voice, low and tight said, "I… It stopped hurting. Every day in the first month afterwards, my first thought when I woke up and my last before I went to sleep was you and her. All I could see when I closed my eyes, as much as I hated it and tried to stop it, was you two… and you… doing what you used to do to me, the way you made me feel to her. And she would make you feel the way I made you feel. Every night, I saw it happening in my head, and I felt sick. And then it just stopped hurting because I felt numb to it, and then I stopped seeing it all of the time."

Every word that fell from Callie's mouth made sense as to why she thought that, but they revolved in Arizona's mind and fucking horrified her, "No. Callie, please, listen I – no. Just… no. She didn't make me feel the way you did. There's no way." Because they didn't love each other, and no one could compare to the way she felt with Callie when they were together.

The brunette seemed not to hear her, and she took a deep breath before those dark eyes looked up at her, "I even started to think that you and – and _her_ made sense. I thought about it, because she was what you always wanted, right? She was the kind of person who you imagined you would be with," brown eyes stared at her, laced with this sad understanding, and Arizona hated it. "You didn't dream of being with someone like me, who wanted to settle down. You didn't dream of having a baby – I know you love Sofia, but she wasn't your dream. _She_ – childless, hotshot doctor – _she_ was what you always thought you'd have."

It was her initial reaction to deny it, "Callie… no." Her wife simply continued to stare at her, unbelieving and she lifted her hand to rub at her forehead, closing her eyes while her mind warred with itself, "Fine, I – yes, I guess." But it wasn't as simple as that and she hated that Callie thought that because she _needed_ her to understand, "She would have been my dream before you. Before… us."

Because being with Callie changed her in a way that she'd been so shocked to find that she could change. Before Callie, she didn't realize that being in love with a woman could change her life so completely. And she almost realized _that_ too late, too.

_She stared into the nursery at the clinic in Africa, through the large glass window, in at several of the babies who had come in in the last few weeks that she'd been there. She could look at them and literally see how their lives would change because of her. Of course, the lives she saved in the states were important, and she changed those kids' lives, too. She knew that. But this… these kids, without __her__ specifically would never have gotten this care. These surgeries. _

_It was a surgeon's dream, to be able to look around and not only just intrinsically know they were making a difference but to be able to see it. A freaking dream come true. And this had been her dream, for years. Since her residency at Hopkins, this had been her dream. A career maker. This was the type of thing that surgeons would kill for._

_Quickly, hopefully before anyone saw her, she lifted her hands and swiped them over her eyes, fingers coming away wet with tears that were trying to roll down her cheeks despite how hard she was trying to hold them in. Because as much as her mind told her to think about these babies and be happy, all she could focus on was wondering how Callie was doing. All she thought about, when she should be thinking about the endless possibilities at running this clinic, was… was Callie okay? What was she wearing? When she curled up on her side at night after a long day, was anyone being the big spoon for her?_

_Because Callie didn't like to admit it, but she really liked being the little spoon, and being held tightly._

_The more she thought these thoughts, the more tears came. Which was ridiculous, because she was the one who left her girlfriend in an airport. She was the one who purposefully didn't mention Callie's name in the slight communications she'd had with Teddy. She left. She left to do life changing, career making work in Africa on tiny humans._

_And all she could think about was curling up in her and Callie's bed and being the big spoon._

_Sniffling, as quietly as possible because everyone here already had caught her crying far too much over this same thing and thought she was crazy over-emotional, she wiped her palms over her eyes once more before a voice said, "You know, you're really scaring some of these nurses."_

_It was Zeke, who was an attending she'd worked closely with since being here, who was extremely excited and eager. Trying to laugh off the tears, she shook her head, "What? Why? I told you… these are just… allergies."_

_He just stared at her, "So, you've been barely eating any food since you've come here, barely gotten any sleep, and cry constantly because of allergies? Come on, Arizona. What's wrong?"_

_And the words she hadn't told anyone, not even out loud to herself came out before she could stop them, and with them the tears came even heavier, "I, um, I miss my girlfriend. Like, I really miss her." She was embarrassed that her words broke on a sob. Because she had left Callie in an airport, staring at her with those heartbroken eyes, and now her eyes were just as heartbroken and she didn't know how to make them stop._

_The older man looked surprised for a second, then nodded with the information, slowly saying, "Well… you've been here for a little while now, and it hasn't gotten any better for you. If anything, I would say you're feeling even worse." A few more seconds ticked by before he asked, "Do you want to go back? We could work to find a replacement for you, if that's what you wanted."_

_Her eyes flickered back to the babies. The tiny humans who still needed help and were going to live such better lives. Was it selfish of her to go back? It was. She couldn't do it. No. "Yes." _

_The word came out of her, unbidden, and it surprised them both. But she wouldn't – couldn't – take it back. Because she had fallen in love with a woman who was the type of lover who would give up her dream – staying in Seattle and leaving behind "big plans" to move to Africa – for love. And it turned out that despite what Arizona had always thought of as the plan for herself, she apparently was also the type of lover that was going to give up something she'd dreamed about for her own love._

Closing her eyes, she drew in a deep breath, "You changed my dreams, Callie. I didn't get trapped with you; I chose you. You didn't ruin my dream, you just gave me a new one," her throat felt raw, and she just wanted Callie to understand. To understand that she didn't regret them being together or her dreams being changed.

But she couldn't see if she understood, because Callie's eyes were tightly closed and her breath shuddered out and her voice sounded like it was being torn from her chest as she leaned back against the wall, "I loved you so much, Arizona."

Her words were so… _bare_ and so past tense that she swore they squeezed around her heart and stole her breath, "Do you think you can be… again? Maybe in the future? Because I don't want to go anywhere, Callie. I want you. I _love_ you and I was us, again."

Callie's eyes opened as she shook her head slowly, "I still love you, Arizona. Don't you… that's what is so hard about all of this. In the last few months, I… I've learned how to live without you. I know that one day, I could _be_ without you. But I still love you and that's what hurts so much, all of the time."

When, um," swallowing was hard as she tried to stop herself from crying, which she _hated_ because she shouldn't be crying right now. She didn't want to cry, and she'd never cried this easily or this much in the past, except for in Africa. But the tears clogged her vision and made her choke for a second before she made herself continue, "Back, way back, in the beginning of us, I… you told me about how George cheated on you and Erica left you, and I used to be able to see how much they hurt you and I promised myself that I was never going to hurt you like that."

And then she'd proven that in her worst days, her darkest of times, she was capable of hurting even more than any one from Callie's past. "And I'm sorry. So sorry. I'm – I love you so much, and I'm willing to wait for_ever_ if it means that we're going to be back together. Some day." Drawing in a deep breath, she stepped closer to her wife, and she wanted to lift her hands to her face, to touch her skin – anything – but she stopped herself from moving any closer, whispering, "I just need to know that there's a chance for us, in the future."

She didn't know whether or not to be scared by the way Callie seemed so resigned or hopeful because Callie still loved her. She still loved her.

"I… I still love you, Arizona, but I don't trust you. With Sofia, yes. But not with me," with a deep breath, she stood up straight, making their bodies just barely brush and Arizona felt herself seem to buzz to life with the proximity, while Callie subtly shifted backwards, away from it. She sounded exasperated as she continued, "And just when I thought I was going to be able to move on from you and be ready to accept you into my life as a friend, you – you ask me on a date! And you're taking walks now. And you go to therapy and group therapy, and you… you do all these things that make me see the woman that I want and make me want to be with you."

"Then be with me," she pleaded because, god, she was not above pleading. She would do whatever Callie wanted. "Because I'm not all "better". I'm not the completely same woman you fell in love with, but I'm healing and I'm going to keep going to therapy and going on walks, but I want to do them with you."

Wide, brown eyes stared at her and she just stared right back. She couldn't see what Callie was thinking. She couldn't tell what she was feeling. It was maddening, and yet she couldn't look away, and her heart was absolutely pounding while her stomach tied itself up, wondering what Callie was going to say. She finally managed to put herself out there and she needed… she needed something back.

Finally, _finally_, Callie spoke, "I can't promise you anything. I'm not moving back in and we're not just going to slip back to where we were before. We can't."

Oh, god. She didn't think it was possible, but her heart beat even faster, "But?"

"But… maybe – slowly – we could… try to start again."

* * *

**Please let me know what you think! I really love reading what you think, and thank you for reading!**


	9. The Bigger Picture

Taking a deep breath, she tied up the shoes on her feet, nice and snug, her fingers lightly running over the laces before dropping to the ground for a few seconds, tapping her fingertips on the cool floor before taking a deep breath and sitting up straight on the chair she was sitting on.

Her stomach was tied tightly together in knots, even though it was dumb for it to be. She was being dumb, and she knew it, but she couldn't help it. After all, no one was around to witness what she was doing. It was early in the morning, in the hallway outside of the second research library on the fifth floor; it was a rarely visited area when the research library was open later in the day, let alone as the clock was barely nearing six in the morning.

She had already completed her only surgery that had been scheduled during this shift, just a standard appendectomy on a seven-year-old girl. So unless she was paged before her shift ended, she was free. Free to try… this.

But it was dumb, she thought again, letting out a deep breath. There was a reason her prosthetist hadn't mentioned this to her. Nor had Callie, back when they'd been actually together. And the reason was because she shouldn't be focusing on this.

And yet, she was.

With one more deep breath, she pushed herself up onto her feet, feeling steady on her feet in a way that she had felt steady standing on her prosthetic for months. In the beginning, she didn't think she would ever feel this natural balance or steadiness, ever again. And yet, here it was. The knowledge that she had it pushed her to continue.

How had Dr. Walker talked her in to this, again?

* * *

"How was this last week, for you?" Walker asked, lacing her fingers together and leaning forward, her eyebrows raising in question.

Arizona just stared at her for a few moments, confused, "I – I just told you. This week had been pretty awesome; Callie and I talked Monday night and she wants to move slowly. Honestly, I'm not entirely sure what slow means, but… that's fine."

_She woke up the morning after their talk feeling both emotionally drained but completely, totally excited. Last night, she had left Callie's apartment very soon after her wife had said they could start over if they moved slowly._

_Her heart felt like it paused for just a few seconds before it quickly started to pound again, thundering in her chest and in her ears, and she stared up at Callie, taking in her features as her throat felt dry, "Really?"_

_The brunette nodded, licking her lips and looking at the floor for a few more seconds in a hard stare, before lifting her head and looking at Arizona, "Really. But when I say slowly, I mean slowly."_

_She found herself nodding. Truth be told, she didn't care if they were going to be moving at what could be classified as a snail type pace, "Slowly," she repeated._

"_Right," Callie reaffirmed, quietly. Dark eyes looked into hers for a few seconds before Callie broke it off, "I, uh, have an early shift tomorrow…" she let the end of her sentence drift, eyes looking over her shoulder, where Arizona presumed her bedroom to be._

_The words effectively ending their conversation, this whole interaction, but she couldn't feel anything but thrilled. And because her lips still felt like they could feel Callie's against them, and one day, maybe she didn't have to anticipate signing the divorce papers. If Callie could somehow find a way to move past her having sex with Lauren, then they could progress. They could possibly be together, they could… they could be something._

_After she had got on her leg and pushed herself out of bed, she couldn't help herself from walking to her dresser and pulling out the top drawer. The drawer that had both her divorce papers and her wedding ring inside, and she finally had found this feeling, this incredible feeling, that maybe they weren't going to go down together. _

_It was entirely possible that there was a chance that they were conflicting objects and that one day, that ring could be worn again while maybe those papers went through the trash. Or through a paper shredder and then the trash. Or through a paper shredder one way, then flipped so they went through again in the other direction, so that they were chopped into little confetti bits._

_Her finger lightly reached out and touched the ring, and as soon as she made contact with the cool metal, the excitement that had been running through her started to cool, until she felt like a weight dropped in her stomach. _

_Did she really ever want to wear this ring again?_

_This was the ring that had been pinned to her scrub top, the one that Lauren had worn after… after. This ring had been the lynchpin in revealing her dirty secret, and the way Callie's eyes had fixed upon it, the way the ring gave away the truth of her actions that night made her blood run cold._

_Quickly shutting the drawer, she grit her teeth and wondered how in the world her wife would be able to move on from that. Callie was forgiving; incredibly so. She had eventually forgiven George for cheating on her, she'd forgiven her parents for turning her back on her, she'd forgiven Arizona for leaving and going to Africa._

_But some things were unforgivable. _

_Forcing herself to take a deep breath, she shook her head. No. Callie was the one who had said they could try to keep going, and she would. Then she looked at herself in the mirror and wondered exactly how slow was "slowly"?_

But in the last few days, she came to the conclusion that slowly could mean… practically any rate, as long as it was a rate.

Then she refocused on Dr. Walker, who had leaned forward, "Yes. You've been telling me about the progress that you have made with Callie, and I think that it's wonderful, as long as you do what you both agreed upon – taking things slowly." She raised her eyebrows before bringing her hands up to fold them on the desktop, "And of course I want to hear about the two of you. But that's all I have been hearing about for the last few sessions. So right now, tell me about _you_."

Her eyebrows furrowed lightly as she thought back on the last few days. She didn't really have any out of the ordinary patients or surgeries coming in, so that wasn't an option to talk to her therapist about. Lightly she shrugged, "Well, what I've been focusing on is being with Callie, trying to get my family back on track. That's me right now."

And she knew her answer wasn't satisfactory when the other woman simply leaned back in her desk chair and raised her eyebrow. It was something Arizona had observed that she had done way back in the beginning of their sessions. When Walker wanted more and felt like Arizona wasn't digging deep enough, she simply sat back and waited until Arizona gave her what she was looking for.

It was pretty effective, the blond would admit, narrowing her eyes and thinking back. Then her eyes lit up as her leg tingled, though in a somewhat pleasant way instead of painful, "Monday night!"

There was that excited feeling coming back to her, and both of her hands came to rest on her thighs, fingers digging into her skin.

Her exclamation was enough to intrigue Walker, who tilted her head, "Monday night? That would be… the night of the kiss and the talk with Callie?"

Nodding quickly, she felt a smile pull at her mouth, just thinking about what had happened before that, "Yeah, the whole reason I came across Callie and Sofia, at the fountain, was because I – I went for a walk."

And the feeling of happiness and pride inside of herself seemed to get even bigger as her therapist's eyes widened, as did her smile, "You decided to go on a walk? On your own?"

Continuing to nod her head, she looked down at her lap, her stomach still fluttering in this strange way, "I was sitting in my apartment, and in my closet I could see my old shoes, the ones that I wore whenever I went out for walks or runs. And I haven't felt like wearing them with my prosthetic, not ever."

Because when she had first gotten her prosthetic, she felt like the shoes had been teasing her. Mocking her. They were shoes that she had gone out with when she was whole, when both of her legs worked in tandem with one another without her having to think about it, to put effort in.

But Monday night… they seemed inviting. The air outside had just the hint of a chill, and it smelled like _fall_ with leaves and crisp, clean, air that was so dry it seemed out of place for Seattle. And the shoes weren't whispering "ha-ha" but instead they had been offering enticements.

Dr. Walker's smile was visible, "That _is_ quite a change. And it's incredible, Arizona. It really is."

There was that feeling again, that she sometimes got, especially when she talked to Walker. That first, knee-jerk reaction feeling that it was embarrassing and pathetic for someone to be proud of going on a walk. But that feeling was a lot easier now to push past than it had been in the beginning, where she would have said something to dismiss the pride in her therapist's tone.

Then Dr. Walker got that look on her face like she was deep in thought and she leaned back, "So, you might say that the progress that you are focused on – Callie and your marriage – is related to what I want you to focus on, wouldn't you say?"

Blue eyes looked up at her in confusion, Arizona's mind already trying to piece together the pieces as she slowly spoke her thoughts out loud as they occurred to her, "Meaning that me doing things solely for my own self progress also progresses my relationship with Callie," she murmured.

And it made complete sense. When she had been the one to reach out after the first few months of no communication, Callie had tentatively responded. When she had called her and confessed that she was in therapy, that had spurred her wife to want to talk to her to start that muddle through the thick waters they had between them.

Callie had even said as much a few nights ago, when her voice had been husky and filled with an emotion Arizona couldn't quite name, as her words had slipped out, _"__you do all these things that make me see the woman that I want_."

Sinking her teeth into her bottom lip, she felt like an idiot for not focusing more on the words when they had been said. Of course, the more she worked on herself, not only was she re-becoming the woman that Callie deserved, but the woman that she wanted, even though she hadn't wanted to want Arizona.

The satisfied look on her therapists face simply showed itself in a small smile around her lips, "All of the little things combine into a bigger picture. And you are absolutely correct when you think about focusing on Callie and your family, because in _your_ big picture, your relationship with Callie, whether or not you two might reconcile, will always be a part of that. But interwoven into every aspect of your bigger picture is you. Your actions. And the better you make yourself, the better everything as a whole comes together."

In a strange way, she sometimes felt that talking to Dr. Walker was like listening to a motivational speaker. Lifting her eyebrow, she asked, "Has anyone ever told you that you're really good at your job?"

Her therapist raised her eyebrows, "I've heard it once or twice."

Letting out a small laugh, she went back to the beginning of their conversation, "So, you're right. I could focus on myself."

Her words seemed to redirect Walker back to her point of the conversation, "All right. I want you to tell me something that you miss. One specific thing that you miss about _your_ life, something in your routine, maybe, that you haven't done since before the amputation."

As Walker's words fell from her lips, Arizona felt like the light atmosphere they'd just developed was sucked out again, and her eyes zeroed on in her therapist's face, just… staring, while her eyebrows drew together.

Some_thing_? There were so many, many things. Plural.

She'd spent _months_ – hell, she had spent the entire last fifteen months, since that day she had woken up in the hospital bed without her leg – trying not to think of everything that she couldn't do anymore, or at least not do it the same. So many nights as she had chased sleep, the changes she had to make in her life, changes that she hadn't wanted to make because she had imagined that the way she was living before the crash, with both legs, would be the way she was going to be spending the rest of her adult life, she instead lie awake, haunted by things she was forced to give up.

Things as small as her _shoes_ taunted her, for god's sake. There was no way she could only think of just one – and then she saw them in her head. Right next to her running shoes, were the shoes she had spent so much time of her adult life wearing and defending, and the word slipped out of her mouth in a whisper, "Heely's."

Dr. Walker leaned forward, "What was that?"

Lifting her eyes up from the ground, a sad smile played at her lips, "I miss my heely's." As her therapist's face remained confused, she explained, "They're – they're like sneakers with wheels on the bottom. I used to wear them at work. The kids loved it." And so did I, she silently added.

She really, really loved those heely's. The first time she'd gotten a pair, from the head of the pediatric surgery at Hopkins, Dr. Mikhail, they were a joking congratulations gift when she had gotten the peds fellowship there. She'd worked with him in her residency and he had been the one to recognize her talent with working with children. He had molded her, until she was ready to take off herself.

And in Mikhail's pediatric department at one of the best hospitals in the country, there was a tight ship. As he taught her, peds did the hardest of the hard and they did it, he had explained to her, handing her the shoebox, with wheels on their shoes.

Walker nodded slowly, taking in her explanation, before simply shrugging, "Then I want you to wear them."

Blue eyes widened as she looked up at her, "I – I can't just go around wearing my heely's anymore." The idea was so silly to her, and her head started to shake, gently at first, then firmly, "I can't. I – learning to _walk_ with balance was hard enough."

Dr. Walker shook her head right back, "Arizona, people with prosthetic legs can run marathons. They can rollerblade, ride bikes and skateboards; a prosthetic – especially from where yours is – does not have to put an end to those activities. We've been slacking a bit in our goal making, because you have been making your own self-directed progress in terms of your relationships –"

Arizona cut her off, while her stomach turned and she irrationally felt like she wanted to cry, as she snapped, "Which has been going well."

But the woman behind the desk was unfazed by her temper, and quietly finished, "It has, I will not be refuting that. But I want you to do something specifically for you this week, and you wearing those wheelie shoes that you miss sounds like it just might be the next step for you, especially given how the soreness in your leg has decreased enough that you are seeking out physical activity for fun again."

She had to close her eyes tightly together, because she felt the backs of them burn. It wasn't fair for Walker to suggest this, because Arizona had said goodbye to those shoes as best she could. And she felt dumb for wanting to cry over them, but those shoes had meant a lot to her. They taught her about being able to see the hospital from a child's perspective. They helped her learn to advocate for the child she was working with.

She missed rolling down the hall, just feeling that _flow_, that easiness, that simple pleasure… she missed the way her patients could hear her coming and the automatic trust that her having those shoes built with her tiny humans.

Finally, she opened her eyes again once she felt like she had herself under control, "Dr. Martin – my prothetist – and god, even Callie… she knew how much I loved those shoes. Neither of them told me that it was an option for me to use again. So, if they never talked about it, then…" she trailed off, feeling like that was enough of an explanation.

And the therapist understood what she was getting at, "Well, you told me you haven't seen Dr. Martin in months. And you haven't talked to Callie about your leg in even longer than that. It was their goal to help you walk with your prosthetic and live with it in your life. It's my goal to help you live that life to the extent that you want to live it to. And if that includes sneakers with wheels on them, then you can make it happen."

Just the thought, the idea of skating with those shoes, made her blood start pumping a little bit faster, and she told herself not to get her hopes up about them, but she would be lying if she told herself that she wasn't already imagining herself, rolling down the halls of the hospital.

* * *

Pacing a little bit, she felt these shoes – her once favored footwear – feel foreign on her feet as the wheels clicked into place. Back when she had first worn these shoes, they took a while to get used to, and she'd taken a few spills before she'd managed to master the ability of long term gliding and steering. So it was very possible that she might fall now.

She had to be prepared for that, right? Okay.

There was the right way to push off in these shoes, and before… before, she would balance back on her left leg, but now, she would have to do it with her right. She ran through the steps in her head, while glancing down the long hallway in front of her. She'd had to get a good push off with her prosthetic left leg, then balance on the heel of her right.

God, she wanted this.

It wasn't until almost an hour later, that she managed to coast down the entire hallway. Her wrist was slightly sore where she had managed to catch herself from hitting the ground – hard – twice. And her butt was a little bruised from the few falls she'd taken and landed before she'd been able to stop herself. Her coasting wasn't perfect, and she wobbled back and forth just a little bit more than she would have liked.

But she did it. She fucking did it, in heely's.

"And you want to know why?" she spoke out loud as a smile took over her face, "Because peds surgeons can do everything and do it in wheeled shoes!" she exclaimed, and the lightness in her chest was a feeling… she hadn't felt this good about herself in a long time.

She couldn't even be bothered to feel any sort of embarrassment when she turned to go down the hallway that would bring her to the first floor coffee cart, and she came face to face with the woman who was coming to work in the research library, who was regarding her with a raised eyebrow.

Instead, all she could do was give her a bright grin, as she pushed off with her prosthetic and sailed by the woman. Damn, she had missed that. Even as she wobbled a bit as she transitioned, clicking her wheel back into the heel of her shoe at the end of the hallway.

Catching her breath from the exertion she'd been putting on her legs, she made her way to the coffee cart, noting the time and that her shift had just ended. She'd been on-call overnight, and that coupled with the falls she had taken with the heely's made her look forward to going back to her apartment and falling into bed. The caffeine in the coffee in her hands really wasn't going to stop her from sleeping, that much she knew.

"Mama!" she heard that sweet little voice from her left, drawing her attention, as she saw Sofia running her way, followed by Callie.

And she automatically felt the smile that was already on her face grow a little wider, "Hi, big girl! Good morning!"

"Morning!" she squealed, her little hands reaching up and clapping, the way she did when she wanted a hug. Obliging her, Arizona set down her coffee on the edge of the cart she was now standing next to and bent, scooping the toddler up, grimacing a bit as her wrist felt a little sore at the motion.

As Callie got close enough, Arizona could see the exhaustion on her features, and she knew that she had just gotten off the overnight shift as well. Giving her the same smile, she was met with a suspicious look.

"Are those your heely's?" her wife asked, dark eyes looking at her feet, making blue eyes follow, and then Sofia's looked as well.

Finally, she looked back up, her smile dimming just a little bit, because she knew how much Callie did not support her shoes with wheels on them. She remembered how, way back in the beginning of them, the Latina would tease her about the shoes, but when she would skate away, it was like winning the debate. You can't lose a debate about the greatness of heely's when you can sail gracefully away in them.

Except for that one time the wheel had spun out on her and she'd landed on her ass, acknowledging that she had to accept Callie's, "I told you!" along with enjoying the way her hands and run over her body, checking for injury.

Her answer was quiet as she put Sof back down, as she was squirming in her arms, "I – yeah. Um, I just spent a while getting reacquainted with them. It's really not all that different than it was before, just a little strange… and you don't really want to hear about my relearning to use my heely's," she muttered, nodding, turning around to reach for her coffee again.

But when she turned back to face her, there was a smile playing on Callie's lips, and her voice was low as she whispered, restating, "You're wearing your heely's."

Blue eyes kept eye contact with those chocolate brown ones, and her heart felt like it was fluttering to life in her chest.

And then Sofia broke them both out of it, "Pancakes! Mama come over for pancakes? We have choc-wit chips and 'nana's!"

Looking down at her daughter, not sure if she was relieved to be breaking that eye contact with Callie or not, she thought about Callie's chocolate chip and banana pancakes. But she couldn't just invite herself over, no matter how much she would rather put off going to sleep and eat those pancakes with her wife and daughter.

And then Callie spoke, hesitantly, "Do you… want to come over for some pancakes?"

Her heart was already beating fast, stealing her breath, as a smile took over her features again, "I would _love_ to come over for pancakes."

"Yay!" their daughter cried from between them, her small hands reaching up and wrapping one around Callie's fingers and one around Arizona's, starting to pull them forward at a determined pace.

She urge to pop out her wheels and skate forward a little bit called out to her, but she kept it under control, looking down at Sofia before up at Callie's profile. If this was slowly… then she was more than happy.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think! Thank you so much for all of your feedback thus far, and thank you for reading!**


	10. First Date

The sequence of events that led up to where Arizona was at that very moment went so smoothly. So smoothly, that in the last week, the part of her that had thought that fate or destiny or whatever people believed in turned against her, started to believe it was working in her favor again.

Her relationship with Callie hadn't been what she would classify as "easy." Callie was a newborn and Arizona had her insecurities about that. When they'd gotten over that hurdle and everything really seemed like it was falling into place, there was the kids issue. When they'd broken up and then gotten back together, there was the Africa thing. When she'd come back, Callie was pregnant with Mark's baby. When she'd proposed, they were in a car accident. When everything finally seemed good between them, there had been the plane crash.

And of course after the crash, was after the crash.

But in the past six days, everything that was happening seemed like the universe was finally moving the roadblocks out of the way, and led to her being able to be here, with Callie. Here, with Callie, as Callie's body didn't touch hers but pressed so close against her that she could feel her body heat all the way down her own body, as her mouth moved over Arizona's, teeth and tongue moving against hers, voraciously. Callie's taste filled all of her senses, and Arizona felt like she was being eaten alive.

And god, she so, so wanted to be eaten.

What a freaking perfect sequence of events they had been, ever since that morning that she'd gone to have pancakes with Callie and Sofia.

* * *

Arizona got Sofia sitting up in her booster seat at the table, as Callie stood a few feet away, flipping the small pancake that she had shaped like Mickey Mouse's head, their daughter's favorite, without using the spatula. The showy manner in which she did it, with the wink directed at the toddler made Sofia clap her hands.

And Arizona felt herself smiling even as her hands twisted in front of her, unsure of what to do now that she had Sofia situated. Should she sit down too? Did Callie want her to do… something?

Callie's voice broke her out of her thoughts and uncertainties as she plated the Mickey Mouse pancake that was laden with chocolate chips and bananas on a blue plastic plate, sliding it onto the table in front of their daughter, before looking at her, "The syrup is in the fridge, on the door. If you're going to want some. And there are strawberries in there, too."

A part of her celebrated inside as Callie added on the part about strawberries, because she remembered how much Arizona liked to have them on her pancakes. And then she told herself she was being dumb, because obviously almost four months wasn't going to erase Callie's memories of five years.

After taking them out, she sat in one of the chairs at the table, smiling at Sofia as the toddler used her hands to rip off one of Mickey's ears, "You want some syrup, Sof?" she asked, reaching for the bottle, only to have her hand stop in midair as the little girl glared at her.

"No, mama. S'rup is yucky," she said, before taking a large bite out of the "ear."

"Since when?" Arizona's forehead crinkled in confusion. The last time she'd had an actual breakfast of pancakes with her daughter, the little girl had practically drowned the pancake in so much syrup that it was soaked through.

"F'rever," her daughter said with her mouth full, staring at her with her dark eyes as if to say "obviously."

Instead, she looked to Callie for an answer, and her wife gave Sofia a look before looking at Arizona, "Since last week."

The look that they shared made her heart jump and a smile slowly spread over her face, because it was one of a silent understanding that they hadn't had since… for much too long. The fact that it stemmed from an understanding of how Sofia's moods, like most kids, changed on a dime without any rhyme or reason didn't matter to her. Because it was a look she hadn't even realized she'd been missing.

As Callie sat down across from her, putting down two plates in front of both of them, before handing Sof a napkin to wipe her face, the brunette asked, "So… what made you put on your heely's? I, uh, I thought you had thrown them out months ago."

She slowly started to cut up the pancakes, focusing on looking at the food as she thought about why Callie would have thought that. Because back when she'd been brought back to their apartment right after the amputation, during those early months, along with kicking out the home nurses, she had also gotten rid of things that reminded her of the leg she no longer had.

The heely's had been in the garbage bag. Her hands had been shaking in anger and sadness and this feeling that she was so completely unhappy that nothing would ever be right again, but before she had tied the bag up, she reached in and took the shoes out, throwing them into the back of the closet. At the time, she thought that keeping the shoes was taking a step back.

Now she knew that it had really been moving forward, even if she couldn't see it then.

"It was Dr. Walker, she told me I should do something that I miss, from before," she quietly explained, then thought back to their conversations in the last few weeks and wondered if she had mentioned what went on in therapy to Callie.

Except, she knew that she really didn't talk about her sessions with her therapist to anyone, not that she really had someone to talk to them about, but… she wouldn't have wanted to tell people about her therapy, anyway.

But Callie was… Callie. And she accepted the blonde's words with a nod and that small smile that she wore sometimes and Arizona couldn't quite decipher despite spending so long thinking about what it could mean, "That's good. Dr. Walker, she's your therapist? She works at the hospital, right?"

Her eyes were fixed on that smile, just on her face in general, forgetting about the pancakes as she nodded, "Yeah, she's… kind of awesome. Really awesome, actually."

"I believe it," Callie said, reaching for the syrup, and Arizona thought about how right Walker had been and how wrong she had been, for so long.

Therapy was something she resisted, something she didn't believe for a second that would actually help her. Yet, she didn't think she would be here – in her life in general or literally at Callie's kitchen table – without it.

They spent the rest of their impromptu breakfast in an easy conversation about their most recent surgeries. She found that she missed other things that she hadn't realized she'd missed. Things like the way Callie's big, beautiful eyes would light up when she told the story behind a surgery she was really impassioned about. Things like the way her voice took on that husky low tone after she'd worked a long shift and was just waiting to go to sleep.

And the way Sofia clanged her sippy cup onto the table, repeatedly, and they simultaneously turned to look at the toddler, saying in chorus with one another, "Sof, enough," made her just ache, deep inside. An ache that reminded her just how much she wanted _this_ every morning. How much she wanted _this_ to be her life again.

It was with a ghostly familiarity that she gathered the dishes and put them in the sink while Callie turned to wipe their daughter's face with a wet washcloth, then help her out of her chair. It was ease that they subconsciously worked with each other, as if falling into an old routine.

And then once Sofia had left the room and the table had been cleared that they were left, looking at one another as that ease fell away. Arizona could tell that Callie was surprised at how simple it had been, how natural it had felt, for them to be in that pattern. Even though she couldn't tell from her wife's face, which had gone back to that distant look, she _knew_ that Callie wasn't happy about how easy it had been.

She tried to veil how happy she was about it. What they had wasn't lost, and even if they might have to be more mindful about falling into old habits, it excited her.

But because she knew that Callie wasn't as ecstatic about it as she was, she knew it was time for her to start wrapping up the morning and give her some space. Gracefully bow out because it was too much. So she did.

The next time she saw Callie was a few days later, in the cafeteria. She noted that her wife's lunch was already almost completely gone, and she quickly purchased her own to hurry to her table, not waiting for those dark eyes to look up from the Sudoku puzzle she was figuring out before asking, "Do you mind… can I sit here?"

The butterflies in her stomach made her feel like she was in seventh grade, asking the pretty, popular girl if she could have lunch with her, rather than asking her wife.

Callie looked up, surprised to see her, and she only hesitated for a few seconds before nodding, "Sure."

Arizona glimpsed once more at the number puzzle game that she couldn't stand – Callie once told her that she used to sit in the back of the class and complete Sudoku puzzles while her classmates were still completing their work – and she knew that her timing was perfect. Well, for her it was perfect. Because Callie was nearly done, and she probably would have left after she finished it.

She took it as a good sign that she closed the book and stayed with her, despite being done with her own lunch. As she put the book on the table, just as Arizona opened her salad, she asked, "I saw on the board that you have a bowel reconstruction later."

Maybe it was another one of those things that was dumb, but she loved when Callie pointed out that she had looked at Arizona's schedule, regardless of the fact that she might not mean to tell her that she was looking up her schedule.

"Yeah, on an eight-year-old boy. It's actually an interesting story…" she told the anecdote about the boy coming in to the hospital a day ago, and about his parents, and Callie listened and laughed at the parts that were amusing, and despite the fact that Callie excused herself only ten minutes later, she didn't care. It still felt _awesome_.

The next time they ran into each other was two days later, on Monday afternoon, at the coffee cart. She'd gone to get a cup to wake her up after sleeping in the on-call room, and saw Callie talking to Bailey, which stopped her from walking toward them.

It wasn't as if she _wasn't_ on speaking terms with Bailey, or anyone else in the hospital. But during the time of her life being the central focus of all of their lives, when everyone had found out about her cheating with Lauren Boswell, she had made it her goal to just… rise above. To not talk about it or feed in to the looks and the whispers, which did result in her becoming more distant towards the people that she worked with.

And she would admit that the one time she did talk to Bailey after that night, and she'd gotten one of the short woman's disappointment speeches, she did feel like… filth on the bottom of someone's shoe. So while she would talk to Bailey on occasion, and was now starting to talk to Callie again, it felt strange to be in a social situation with the two of them and her.

But she didn't make up her mind about whether or not to turn around and pretend she had never been going in the direction of the coffee cart at all soon enough, because Callie and Bailey turned and saw her. So she had no choice but to smile and walk toward them, stopping as they ran into each other halfway.

"Good morning," she'd said, smiling.

"Morning," Callie said back, giving her a small smile in return.

Bailey had looked back and forth, not smiling, and just said in her questioning tone, "Good morning…" After looking at her watch, she looked up at Callie, "Torres, are you coming?"

Callie looked at her, "I have to talk to Arizona about something, first. I'll meet you upstairs."

As Bailey had walked away, Arizona couldn't help but bounce a bit on her foot – then winced and told herself not to do that – because her hopes were already raised. Maybe this was it. Maybe Callie was ready to go on a date or something, and her hands clenched tightly together in anticipation of what her wife was going to say as they watched Bailey leave.

Then that hope was crushed, as Callie cleared her throat, "I, uh, was wondering if you could pick Sofia up from daycare today? Bailey and I have a surgery this afternoon and I'm not sure how long it's going to take."

Her mouth fell open and she took in the words with a nod, "Oh, right. Absolutely." And then she felt even more disappointed, because it was a Monday night, meaning that it was the night she normally would have been picking Sofia up from Callie's, meaning that it was a night that they would very possibly be having dinner together, the three of them. But that wasn't going to be happening.

Gamely, she tried to keep the smile on her face.

Before she went to get her coffee, though, Callie reached out her hand, resting it on her elbow, and even feeling the warm, light touch through her lab coat made her entire body freeze, and both of their gazes went to her elbow and Callie's hand quickly dropped, but her arm still felt warm.

Blue eyes sought out brown, and she could see the way Callie was surprised with herself as she took a deep breath, "But I'm, uh, I'm getting lunch tomorrow in the cafeteria. If you want to have someone to sit with."

Inside, her mind cheered loudly and the smile that she'd been forcing not only became genuine, but she was sure the sheer intensity might have been frightening. She was a smiler by nature, though, so she hoped it didn't look too unnatural, "Yes! Absolutely. Lunch, around noon?"

Callie gave her a smile back, and not that small one, but a real one, "Sounds good. I'll see you then?"

"Yes," the word was stressed and firm as it came out of her mouth, and she felt like she didn't even need her morning coffee after that.

As it turned out, she hadn't exactly thought about their Tuesday noon lunch and had been a bit quick to jump the gun in her response, because she actually wasn't scheduled to work.

She met Callie in the cafeteria for lunch anyway, Sofia on her hip. Even though she craved having another meal with just the two of them, even if it was a quick lunch in the hospital cafeteria, she felt too guilty dropping their daughter off in daycare – where she was already certain that the toddler spent too much time – just for her own romantic interests.

Even if it was a romantic interest in Sofia's other mother.

Regardless, having Sof come was a good thing, anyway. She insured that there would be no pauses or awkward gaps in conversation, and the way Callie gave her bright, bright smile at the sight of the little girl was always a welcome sight.

As Sofia ate her favorite food-of-the-week – a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, which Arizona enjoyed because it was a food she could make that Sofia didn't insistently tell her that Mami could make better – she smeared her own face with the makings of the sandwich, before reaching up and offering a bite to Arizona.

Who, as every mother knows, took a bite, getting some of the jelly rubbed onto her cheek as Sofia smiled up at her. And Callie was already reaching over with a napkin, and brushed off the jelly quickly, easily, but the feeling of her hands on her face even with the barrier of a napkin made Arizona's heart race. They kept eye contact long enough for her heartbeat to slow again.

Sofia's voice jerked them both out of the moment, as she bounced up and down on Callie's leg, where she was sitting, waving her hand without the sandwich in it, "Hi, Dr. Ross!" her "r" sound was caught between an r and a w, but it was the name that fell from her lips that made Arizona quickly turn her head to see Alicia standing a few feet away.

The younger blonde stood awkwardly, a cup of soup in her hand, staring at the three of them, her hand lifted in a small wave with a forced smile, "Hi Sofia."

Arizona wondered how much Alicia Ross had met her daughter in the time that she'd dated Callie, and immediately her stomach tightened in jealousy. It was enough for Sof to have remembered her. Then again, she tried to comfort herself with the knowledge that her daughter was extremely smart and friendly, so it wouldn't be strange that Sofia greeted Alicia if they'd only met a few times.

She tried to keep her voice light and easy, as she watched Alicia walk away, "Is that… are you two… still seeing each other?"

Damn, she really, really uncontrollably detested the thought of Callie "seeing" anyone. But the Latina shook her head, quietly saying, "No, we… no."

Arizona found that she didn't need an explanation. No was enough. But she tried not to show how happy she was. As Callie pager went off, Arizona reached forward, collecting Callie's trash, "Don't worry, I've got it."

"Thanks," Callie had stood up by this point, but instead of walking away, she stood next to the table for a few seconds before asking, "Arizona?"

As she moved her gaze from Sofia, running her eyes up Callie's body until they reached her face, she didn't get a chance to say anything in response before her wife asked, "Do you want to… when you drop Sofia off tomorrow, do you want to have dinner?"

Confused, she looked up at her, "Yeah, I thought Wednesday dinners with Sofia were a normal thing?"

And when Callie shook her head lightly, looking down before back up into blue eyes, she pushed herself to clarify, "I – no, I don't mean. What I meant to ask is if you would want to go out to dinner tomorrow. With me. On a… first date."

It turned out that Callie's plan of a first date ended up being foiled. She'd told Arizona that she wanted to go out to an Italian place that neither of them had been to before – which was good, because it was really going with the starting over theme that Arizona was pushing for, and they'd agreed to dress casually dressy.

So she deliberately wore those jeans that highlighted her butt again, this time with a gray top that showed cleavage, hoping that Callie was wearing something similar. Nerves and excitement and anticipation and – god, she could hardly describe it – built up inside of her, and she imagined what it was going to be like. Many scenarios started to form in her head, refusing to let any of them end poorly.

Then a wail from the next room of a crying, "Mamaaaaa!" broke her from all of her imaginings. And she arrived just in time to see Sofia bend over and vomit on the floor.

She called Callie to let her know that instead of the dinner she'd planned on going to, she was going to be faced with a sick toddler, and she liked to imagine that Callie sounded as disappointed as she felt.

But when she'd reached Callie's, as Sofia had fallen asleep on her shoulder on the elevator ride up, her wife swung open her apartment door, still dressed as if they were going to go out on a date. She'd taken Sofia from Arizona and whispered, "If you want, I can still make us something here."

Blue eyes ran slowly down her wife's long body, lingering – even as she told herself not to linger – on the shirt that _yes!_ did reveal her delicious cleavage, and she was nodding, "Yeah."

So, Sofia had been put into her bed after Callie had given her some children's Tylenol, and Callie led her into the kitchen. And before she could even think about what they were going to talk about or wonder about anything, she stumbled over Beary that had fallen to the ground in their transition of Sofia.

Callie had quickly steadied her, hands coming to rest on her hips, and Arizona swore she saw Callie lick her lips… but before she could tell herself to stop imagining things, those brown eyes, now closer to hers than they had been since that night at the fountain almost two weeks ago, she knew what was coming.

The logical part of her brain said to stop it because she knew Callie wasn't ready – and maybe she wasn't, either – but then logic went to hell as those full lips pressed against her own. And unlike their fountain kiss, this one didn't start off slow and innocent.

* * *

The whimper that came out of Callie's throat went right to her center, and her hands immediately rose up from her sides, clamping on her wife's waist. As soon as she made contact, Callie started to pull back, but Arizona's head followed her, just barely parting to pant out, "No hands, I know."

Callie quickly nodded, bringing her face back to Arizona's as soon as pale hands fell from her body, her mouth sucking on the blonde's bottom lip, this time making Arizona moan. Her hands craved Callie – any part of her – but she made them stay at her sides, remembering how Callie said they made her think of Lauren.

God, she would have stayed there all night, breathing in Callie's scent, feeling her lips, tasting her mouth… and then Callie broke then apart again, panting, "Wait. We can't do this."

"Why?" she asked, still tasting her wife on her lips, but then shaking her head as if to clear it, "No, you-you're right. This isn't first date etiquette."

It took a few seconds before Callie responded, quietly, as she stepped back, "That's just it. I can't go on a first date with you, Arizona. Not now, and not in the future."

Arizona's heart rate slowed, and her mind tried to understand what Callie was saying. And she just didn't know how to respond, because, "Y-you said that we could start over. You said we could start again."

And then she felt panicked. _Please, please don't take it back. You can't take that back. _It was impossible to go back, now. Because she knew that Callie wanted her and missed her, the same way she felt.

Callie's voice was frustrated as she stepped back, away from the blonde, "I know I said that, but – but I can't just start over with you. We've _had _a first date already, remember?"

Of course Arizona remembered.

_She approached the front door of the apartment that Callie said she shared with Cristina Yang. She'd never been there before, and as she double checked the text message Callie had sent to make sure it was the right apartment, she felt nervous as she lifted her hand to knock on the door._

_Which was ridiculous, because Arizona Robbins didn't get nervous, especially on dates. She was good on dates. But the only official date she'd been on since coming to Seattle was with Julie, and after Callie's interruption, that hadn't gone well, because all she thought about was the hot ortho resident. _

_Callie opened the door seconds after she knocked, looking amazing in just a simple purple top and a pair of jeans, and as she flashed her smile, Arizona instantly felt her nerves lessen, "Hey, you found the place."_

"_Well, you do live right across the street from the hospital," she let out a light laugh, "It must be great to live here when you get paged in the middle of the night. I might just have to move in!"_

_A perfectly arched eyebrow lifted suggestively, "The first date and you're already inviting yourself to move in with me… pretty presumptuous, Robbins."_

_Arizona laughed harder, immediately feeling the rest of her tension drain away, "So what do you have planned for our date?"_

_Callie had told her to get herself to her apartment – casually dressed, hence her own jeans – and she was going to take care of the rest. Arizona stood in the doorway; she had done her part._

_The Latina had opened the door wider, stepping back to let her in, "I thought we could stay in."_

_She walked through the door, this time lifting her eyebrows, "Now who's being presumptuous?" They both chuckled as Callie shut the door and led her into the kitchen, where something smelled like heaven on earth, "I made chicken piccatta; I thought it would be kind of rude of me to tell you how amazing it was and then not make it for you."_

_Her mouth was already watering and she was enjoying the date and Callie already. When she was with Julie, it was… all right. But it had first date awkwardness. Right here, right now, she didn't feel any of that awkwardness. "Breaking out the big guns on the first date. You're really raising the bar for yourself, Calliope."_

_Callie sent her a grin over her shoulder, "I'm hoping that for the next date you can impress me."_

"_Second date talk already. You seem to be very confident in yourself," she remarked, even though she already knew that she would definitely be going on a second date with Calliope Torres._

_The taller woman winked, "You can't eat my chicken piccatta and not come back for more."_

_She was incredibly right. Their dinner conversation flowed smoothly, from topics of the hospital, their families, stories from their pasts. And all too soon, the meal was over and Arizona wasn't ready to go. Callie, it seemed, wasn't ready for her to go, either. She brought Arizona into the living room, turning on the stereo, "Dance?"_

_Arizona had never been asked to dance – not to a seductive slow song, either, but to a fast, fun __dancing__ song – in a woman's living room on the first date. But as Callie started moving her hips, she found that it was incredible. It felt like electricity was shot through her as Callie's hands lightly touched her hips, swinging them to the beat as Callie's own moved behind her. _

_It was going to be the beginning of something really super. She already knew it._

Callie's eyes bore into her, "That was our first date, Arizona. No matter what we're doing now, we can't just… it's not starting over. We can't start over. You can't start over with someone you're still in love with."

Taking in a deep breath, she held it in her chest for a few seconds before letting it out slowly, unsure of where to go from there, except, "I don't want you to be in love with me, with who I was a few months ago. I want you to… to see me, now. The better me. And love me for who I am now."

Her wife shook her head, her exasperated tone mirroring Arizona's, "Well, sorry, Arizona, but there aren't two of you. When I look at you, I see the woman who kissed me in the bar bathroom. Who left me to go to Africa, then came back. The mother of my child and my wife who cheated on me. I don't have two different Arizona's, I only have one. And I told myself I could start over with you, but I can't."

* * *

**Please let me know what you think! Thank you so much for all of the feedback so far, and thank you for reading.**


	11. The Torturous Wait

Sitting down in her chair in Dr. Walker's office and calmly folding her hands across the bottom of her stomach, she lifted an eyebrow at her therapist, "You, Walker, have the world's most excellent poker face."

It wasn't her time for her appointment, but she'd slipped up to psych during what she knew was Walker's walk-in time, just so she could see her face and see if the therapist had any kind of tells.

But her expression was impenetrable, unreadable, "I have no idea what you're talking about, Arizona. Would you care to elaborate?"

A smile came up on her lips as she narrowed her eyes, "I think that you know exactly what I'm talking about," she said in a hinting way.

And Walker simply raised her eyebrow, "Arizona, I really have no idea."

But she kept smiling, "I think you want to see me and Callie together as much as I do. I think that underneath that impermeable look, beats the heart of a romantic."

Blue eyes were met with the raising of both eyebrows, "I'd say this calls for much more of an explanation, if you wouldn't mind."

Even though she was certain that her therapist knew exactly what she was talking about, she settled back into the chair and started to recount the tale of the last twelve hours.

* * *

Arizona was positive that this waiting was the most torturous feeling in the entire world. It had been almost four weeks – twenty-six days, to be exact – since talking to Callie or even seeing her outside of the hospital, more than just passing glances.

And it left her with this empty feeling inside of her chest that she really, really did not care for and couldn't get rid of.

With a heavy sigh, she took a sip of the mug of coffee in her hands. Tonight was definitely not going the way she had thought tonight would be going. She had thought that she would have gone through the remainder of group, then she entertained the idea of taking a walk around a route that she'd started to take semi-often in the last few weeks, whenever she had the time.

Yet, she looked around at the three people sitting with her in a café that was down the street from Seattle Presbyterian – where group therapy was – she was here. An interesting turn of events.

_As she pressed the button on the top of the cheap coffee dispenser that was kept in the back of the room, she could tell just by looking at the liquid that came out that it wasn't going to be good, but she needed the caffeine jolt. Taking a sip, she grimaced; definitely one of the top ten worst coffees she'd ever had. And she was going to keep drinking it. _

"_You should have bought a cup before coming," someone commented behind her, and she turned to recognize the redheaded woman as… Jenna?_

_Giving her a small smile, she turned to face her, "Yeah, I realize that now."_

_It was another one of those nights where they were discussing the topic of spouses, and this time, she'd come without Dr. Walker's prompting, because she needed some way to stay sane, and she had hoped that perhaps someone here was going through the same thing that she was. And maybe it was just her, but she couldn't get over the Sherry woman who ran the sessions. _

_They were only halfway through, and so far, she felt like everyone was on a different page than she was in their marriages. The people who had talked so far had this sense of finality about them, and not only did she not have that, but she didn't want it. After attending – this would be her ninth meeting – group for so long, she could say with certainty that there were some benefits to coming here._

_Like last week, when they had discussed some changes their lives had gone through on a very basic level, and she just __related__ to everyone when they talked about how shoe shopping used to be enjoyable and now it was a strenuous, unpleasant task. It wasn't something that she could feel like she could talk about to anyone else she knew and be taken seriously. But these people understood, and she found that she liked that._

_But this week, the thought of sitting through the next forty-five minutes of miserable stories of marriages ending… yeah, she needed this coffee, no matter how terrible it tasted. _

_Lifting her eyebrow, she looked at the woman's empty hands, "I see you didn't bring your own coffee, either." Wordlessly, she moved a step aside and offered the coffee dispenser to her._

_But Jenna shook her head and cast a furtive look over her shoulder to where most of the people were regrouping around the chairs as she lowered her voice, "Listen, do you want to get out of here?"_

_Surprised, and a bit confused, Arizona found herself leaning farther back, "What?" Was this lady hitting on her? What was – _

_Then the red haired woman's eye widened as if she realized what she sounded like, "No, I don't mean… A few of us –" she tipped her head to the side, where the entrance to the room was and saw a man named Matt and a woman, Denise, were both very conspicuously standing near the doors and looking over at them, "– are going to go get some real coffee down the street. And we figured, after hearing you talk about your wife, you might want to come with us. It just doesn't seem like you really want to be here right now."_

_Arizona wasn't a skipper or a ditcher; the one time she had skipped a day of school was when she was in sixth grade, and she had felt so guilty for faking a stomachache that she confessed to both her mom and her teacher. But as blue eyes roamed back to where Sherry was taking her seat, she didn't feel that guilty feeling that she might have felt, before. _

_Instead, she nodded, "A real cup of coffee would be good."_

Matt, who was in his forties and was one of the only members of group who actually was still married to his wife from before his amputation, sat across from her, "So, you mentioned that your wife – Callie? – isn't talking to you right now. That's really rough."

Denise – who was the rather smart-mouthed girl she had thought was a teenager during her first few sessions but had since learned was in her early twenties – rolled her eyes, "No, it _sucks_."

Matt, Denise, and Jenna, as they had revealed to her on the walk to the café, had all joined the group a few months before she did and had quickly bonded their own little group. They'd never invited a fourth person to join them for their after-session coffee before, but after the last few weeks, they thought that she might be the fourth person they were looking for.

She kind of felt like she was joining a clique, but at the same time, she liked it. As Walker had pointed out to her a little while ago – who did she have in her life anymore? Beyond the hospital, there was no one, really.

Jenna, who was sitting next to her, nodded, "I can't even imagine it."

Jenna hadn't been married before her amputation, but she had talked about how it had made the long-term boyfriend she had propose to her, finally.

Matt made eye contact with her, "It really does just take time. I've been where Callie is and it is kind of like a waiting game." His story was that it wasn't him who cheated on his wife after he lost his arm, but she who cheated on him. "After Paula cheated it was tough. I didn't know if I could be with her again, but in the end... we'd both been through hell. I wasn't easy to deal with after the accident, and even though that doesn't make it okay for her to have cheated, it is what it is."

She wondered if his words were something that her wife would or could ever feel; somehow, she didn't think that Callie would ever say "it is what it is" about her cheating, regardless of what their future was. It just seemed so… blasé. _She_ would never be able to say that about her own infidelity; she would find it just plain wrong if Callie did.

"Well, I think that waiting sucks. I think you should just call her up – better yet, go to her house and just lay it all out on the table," Denise spoke, slamming her mug down in emphasis, her eyes lighting up, "You slept with another woman _once_, five months ago. She left you and you guys took a two month break from each other. You've made a shit ton of progress and you want her back. Tell her – tell her you would do anything to have her back. Tell her –"

Jenna reached across the table and put her hand over her mouth, "Shut it."

But somehow, Arizona found herself laughing at the young woman, before she looked down at the dark liquid in her cup, "I _would_ do anything to have her back. But it's not about me."

Ever since that night where they were supposed to have a date, that night twenty-six days ago, she'd felt like she was floundering with Callie. It felt like… crap. Dr. Walker had told her to use the time to build on herself, and she was. She'd made new exercise routines and had slowly started to introduce new movements to her leg. Well, old movements that she just hadn't done since her amputation. She'd made sure to go to group every week, and she was here now with these new people.

But "herself" felt miserable.

It wasn't even like it was in the first two months of their separation, where they would see each other when they would pick up or drop off Sofia. Because they'd – and by they, she meant Callie – decided that they needed some real space from one another.

Their relationship wasn't on her terms at all, and as much as it made her want to bang her head on the table out of frustration and cry at the same time, she understood that. This whole mess had happened on her terms, by her sleeping with Lauren. And now Callie held the reigns completely. Even as she didn't like it, she understood it. Logically, she couldn't call the shots because she couldn't control the way her wife felt.

Damn, but twenty-six days of not knowing was a long time. Torturous.

_"Well, sorry, Arizona, but there aren't two of you. When I look at you, I see the woman who kissed me in the bar bathroom. Who left me to go to Africa, then came back. The mother of my child and my wife who cheated on me. I don't have two different Arizona's, I only have one. And I told myself I could start over with you, but I can't."_

_As Callie said those words, everything felt like it was frozen. Like her heart stopped but and they stared at each other, blue eyes searching for answers in those brown ones. And then, like a snapping of fingers, everything came rushing back. Confusion rolled in and she shook her head, even as the fear stayed stuck low in her stomach, "What do you mean?" Because it didn't make sense. "You kissed me. You invited me here tonight. You were the one who… I haven't been pushing you, have I?"_

_She tried to think back, desperately searching to make sure that this couldn't be somehow a result of her being too… anything, and then she stopped when Callie just shook her head, lifting her hands to rub at her eyes, her voice low, "No, Arizona – no."_

"_Then what is it?" And if she was talking to anyone else but Callie, she might have minded that her voice took on this near-begging tone. "Because I'll do whatever you need. If you can't start over then…" then what? "Can we move on?"_

"_I don't know," her wife's voice was rough with emotion, as her hands came to cross in front of her, the body language so closed off; so different than it had been only minutes ago._

"_Then what are we doing?" she wanted to reach out and grab Callie's hands, make her feel their connection that was still there. She wanted to lightly run her fingertips over the soft skin of her jaw. But instead, she just dragged her hands through her hair. She'd been wanting this – this date for weeks. Months. And she felt like in seconds, everything went from right where she wanted to be, to crashing into the ground. "I thought the whole reason we've been doing everything was to try to restart –"_

"_But I can't restart, Arizona, and neither can you. You're getting the help that you need and you're acting like the woman that I'm in love with, and sometimes it's so easy for me to just give in to what I'm feeling. But then I remember how we got here, and I remember seeing the ring that I put on you on our wedding day, on __her__ shirt. And I can't feel like that again," just as she finished speaking, the slow start to crying started in the other room, signaling that their daughter had woken up._

_A thousand promises were instantly made on her tongue. A promise that she would never cheat on her again. A promise that she could trust her with her heart and that Arizona would hold it in her hands and cherish it and that she wouldn't drop it again. But she knew that Callie didn't want to hear them and she didn't know if her wife would ever be able to believe them. Instead, she closed her eyes briefly, holding a breath inside of her chest before slowly releasing, "What can I do?" _

_Because she really didn't know. She thought she had been doing everything right; she had been careful not to overstep. She'd let Callie be the one to determine when and where their first date would be. She just… didn't know._

_And it seemed neither did Callie, "You can't do anything. You've done everything right in the last few months, but that's not – it's not the point. I think I just need time, without you. Really, truly without you. No dinners or lunches or Sofia switches. I don't know how much time I'm going to need to sort myself out. And I don't know if you're going to be there when I'm ready, which scares me, I'll admit that. But I can't let that hold me back."_

_Sofia's crying grew even louder, and before Callie left the room, she managed to get out the words, "I will be there, when you're ready," despite how tight her chest felt and how much she felt like she might vomit. _

_Those dark eyes gave her a lingering look, and it was as though that guard that had been up was completely torn down. The sadness that still haunted them dug right into her, making her stomach tie up into knots that seemed to strangle her, as Callie cleared her throat, "I, uh… I need you to not be here after I get Sof."_

_Despite the fact that her footsteps felt like they were weighed down with lead, she left the apartment, wondering how it could even be possible that she could still taste her wife on her lips and yet she felt farther from her than she had in months._

Much like Matt had just said, there wasn't really anything left for her to do. She'd spent what felt like far too long already talking with Dr. Walker, going over every single avenue of opportunity that she could possibly have. But as her therapist had told her, the best thing she could do for both herself and Callie was wait until Callie was ready to talk.

Whenever that would be.

Her phone ringing from her pocket nearly made her jump from surprise, and as she pulled the device from her pocket, her heart started beating fast and her face flushed from excitement when she saw her wife's name on the screen.

Quickly holding up a finger to Jenna, she excused herself from the table, leaning back and bringing the phone quickly up to her ear, "Callie?"

Immediately, she heard the uncontrollable, unmistakable screeching of her daughter in the background, and even though she knew the phone was pressed against her wife's face, Callie's voice seemed more distant than the screams, "Arizona –"

As soon as her name left her wife's mouth, the wailing that was cutting through the air took the distinctive sound of, "Maaaaaamaaaaaaaaa!"

And she could just tell how frazzled Callie was, and desperate and frustrated, just from the tone of her voice, "I wouldn't call you unless it was completely necessary."

Arizona had no doubt about that. And she could tell just from the way crying that this was one of the worst tantrums Sofia had thrown in… years. She was already reaching for her purse, "I'm on my way."

Her new friendly-friend-like companions looked up at her, and she opened her mouth to explain, but they were already waving her on, Denise with a fist pump into the air, "Go get your woman!" and Matt with a, "You should get coffee with us again next week."

She gave them a rushed smile, "I think I will."

Her drive to Callie's was quicker than it should have been; she might have broken some speed limits to get there. She knew that her wife had only called her because Sofia was having a tantrum; but the fact that it was the first time she was really going to see Callie in almost a month, regardless of the reason, spurred her on.

Her daughter's screams from inside of Callie's apartment could be heard as soon as she stepped off the elevator, and grew louder and louder until she reached her wife's apartment door. As she knocked, she briefly wondered whether or not Callie would even be able to hear it. But she must have been waiting, as the door swung open within moments.

Sofia was dressed in her favorite pink footie pajamas that Arizona had picked out despite Callie's protests against the color. Her feet kicked out to the sides as her hands bunches up into fists with the way they held onto her bear. Her eyes were screwed so tightly closed as her mouth was open, emitting those screams. Despite her closed eyelids, tears were streaking down her face so heavily her cheeks were drenched, and her nose was running heavily, too.

Then she looked at Callie, whose hair was thrown into a messy ponytail and Arizona could practically feel the exhaustion pouring off of her in waves. Her mouth opened to say… anything to her wife – a first word exchanged between then in nearly four weeks – but she didn't know. She didn't even know if Callie wanted her to say anything.

Instead she focused back on her daughter, "Hi, baby," the words left her mouth softly as Callie shut the door behind her, simultaneously offering the toddler out to her.

Her hands reached out, instinctively cushioning her little butt with one hand, and urging her head down onto her shoulder, stroking her fingers through the soft dark hair before moving her hand down to her back, caressing her palm up and down her spine, even as her back heaved as the toddler tried to take in deep breaths.

Rocking as she walked, she started in the direction to where Sofia's room was, as Callie stayed where she was, leaning against the closed door. She muttered words that she couldn't even decipher into her daughter's ear, just knowing that she liked to hear the sound of her voice. It took longer than usual – nearly ten minutes – before those gradually quieting screams got quieter and quieter until they tapered off into light whimpers.

She didn't stop until everything was silent, and she could feel Sofia's breath even out against her neck. Lying her on her back in the "big girl bed" – the frame and mattress that was only a foot and a half off the floor with crib-like walls that came up on three sides, leaving one side open so she could get herself out of bed in the morning – she stroked her hand out, wiping the dark hair off of her daughter's exhausted face.

Then she pulled her sleeve down over her hand and used it to lightly wipe the tears away, drying her face. She had been screaming and crying so hard for so long that she had broken the capillaries under her eyes, little red dots appearing.

Stroking her thumb over them, she whispered, "I'm sorry."

Sofia had always had tantrums at night, wanting her. And when she woke up in the morning, her favorite thing to do was to cuddle with Callie. Normally, she could sub in for Callie and Callie could calm her at night, but in the last few weeks, their daughter had been able to pick up on the added tension between them. Even mornings that Sofia stayed with her and woke up to no Mami were tougher than usual; she could barely imagine the nights her wife was dealing with here.

And god, she just wanted it to end.

With one last stroke down her daughter's cheek, she backed away from the bed. But before she left the room, she made sure to look around. It was painted lavender purple, with wallpaper trimming of cartoon animals, right under the ceiling. Her toys were organized, and the furniture set was all a dark mahogany. It was her daughter's other home. And this was the first time she had been inside.

Which made her just hurt, so she looked one last time at her sleeping face, before backing out into the hallway and leaving the door open just a crack, because she knew Sof liked to sleep with a slant of light coming in from the hallway.

But as she started walking down the hallway down to Callie, her footsteps faltered just a little bit with uncertainty. Clenching her hands tightly, she shook her head. She wasn't going to force Callie into conversation; she was going to wait until she was ready. Like Dr. Walker and Matt said, and like she knew was the right thing.

But her wife was still leaned against the door, her eyes closed, head tipped back. Arizona knew from the slight digging she did regularly that Callie had done a surgery today that had been twelve hours long. And to then end that day by taking a cranky, fussy Sofia home and dealing with that tantrum…

If they were married – not just technically, like they were right now – then Callie would have laid her head on Arizona's chest in bed, where they would both be scantily clothed. And she would have let the blonde's hands run through her hair while she just… rested. It was what Arizona wished they could do now.

Instead, she cleared her throat, making Callie's dark eyes open and look at her, "Thank you."

Her voice was raspy, and sent those shivers down Arizona's spine, "I'll always be here for Sof," … and you. She wanted to add that on, but she didn't know how well received it would be.

Her wife stood up slowly, pushing herself off the door as she looked at the ground, "These last few weeks have been really hard on her. And, um, it's not fair to her. I was going to ask you tomorrow if you wanted to get lunch and talk, but she sped up the process a little bit."

"You want to talk?" was that good or bad? What did this mean? Her heart started to beat a little harder in her chest.

Nodding, Callie bit her lip, "Yeah. I – not now. I'm just too exhausted. But tomorrow? I checked your schedule, and I saw that you're free at one. If you want to have lunch with me."

"Yes, definitely," she nodded quickly. Her fingers tapped against her thighs, and she couldn't stop herself from asking, "Is it… a good thing?"

The tiniest ghost of a smile played around those full lips, "Yeah, I mean, I think so. I've, uh, been seeing Dr. Walker a few times. And you're right, she is kind of great."

* * *

"And then I left," she finished, leaving out how she'd barely slept all night, as anticipation had kept her awake, "But the point is, Walker, you've been two timing me."

That same look was on her therapists face, "What I discuss with my other patients is confidential. I can't confirm nor deny that I've been working with Callie."

"But you have been," and Arizona knew it. And she knew that Dr. Walker hadn't led Callie in any direction to go to in their relationship and no matter what they had talked about, she'd just helped her wife clarify certain things, just like she did with her. Still, there was this part of her that couldn't help but feel grateful. Looking at the clock – seeing that it was nearly one – she pushed herself up, "Either way. Thank you."

"I still don't know what you're talking about. But I hope your talk with Callie goes well," Walker said as she started to leave her office, and Arizona turned to look at her quickly as she opened the door, and she swore there was an actual smile on her face.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think! Thank you for all of the feedback so far, I appreciate it. Also, this story will be coming to an end within two or three chapters or so; it was originally planned to be short (maybe ten or eleven chapters) and that already didn't happen... haha. Thank you for reading!**


	12. Forgiveness

Right now was perfect.

She was sitting on her living room couch after all twelve of Sofia's age two through four playgroup had been running around the apartment, meaning that there were toys and some trash strewn practically everywhere her eye could see. Because the birthday party that had been planned had included an outdoor party at the park, as the weather was supposed to be bright and sunny, but it was Seattle. So. Here she was.

The apartment was a mess, and her head was pounding just a bit, and the was pretty sure that the way the throbbing was happening was in the pattern of some kids song that the daycare taught that the kids had sang throughout the party. Repeatedly. Her prosthetic was still on her leg even as it ached, because the weather was more humid than not, but she just didn't have the energy to even lean over and take it off.

But it was all perfect, so perfect, because her daughter's first birthday party that she would actually remember had been a huge success. And, she and Callie had done it all together. Her eyes closed for just a second, a happy sigh leaving her mouth. The last two weeks since their talk had definitely been good ones.

* * *

It was one sixteen, and she was supposed to have met Callie sixteen minutes ago, and now she was running late. Just perfect. She wasn't bitter about getting called in to do a consult on a tiny human, because that would just be wrong.

Right?

Shaking her head, she rolled her eyes at herself, taking out her phone and tapping her fingers over the screen quickly, _I'm so, so sorry I'm running late. I'll be there in a minute._

In fact, as she pressed send, she increased her pace so that she would be there in less than a minute. Just before she entered the cafeteria, her phone chimed with a new message from Callie, _It's no problem. Would you mind meeting in the third floor on-call room? I'd rather talk in private than in the cafeteria._

The way she stopped so short, then immediately started to back up as if a car in reverse was probably comical to anyone who saw her, but she didn't give a crap. By the time she reached the on-call room, she was out of breath and sweating, and her prosthetic was rubbing uncomfortably against her skin.

She figured it was a combination of nervousness and excitement that had her hand quaking just a little bit as she reached out for the doorknob, then hesitated, dropping her hand. Just to take a moment. Close her eyes and take in a deep breath.

Callie had said this was a good thing. Well, she'd said she "thought so." So what did that mean? Couldn't that mean anything? What if what Callie thought was a good thing for the two of them wasn't what she thought was a good thing for the two of them?

These were the same thoughts that had kept her awake all last night, as all of the many different scenarios that could play out today, right now, rolled through her mind. Then again, there really were only two. On one hand, Callie would be able to move on and on the other, she wasn't going to be able to but she would want to be friends for Sofia's sake.

Arizona took just one more second to close her eyes and desperately hope it was the first one. But after four weeks – really, five months – of not knowing where her marriage was going or what their relationship status really was, it was finally time to know. And she really couldn't wait any longer.

With a deep breath, she opened the door, just enough for her to slip in, before closing it behind her. After just a second's worth of hesitation, she flipped the lock on the door because they did not need any interruptions.

And for just a second, as she shook her hair out of her eyes, and looked up to see Callie standing, leaning her elbows against the small window sill, all she could think of was the first time they'd been in this on-call room together.

_With a frown on her face, she looked down at her pager to make sure that she had it right – yep. Definitely a page from Callie to this on-call room. One hand in her pocket, she ran her fingers lightly over the small pack she had of extra strength Ibuprofen, as she remembered Callie had said she had a headache the last time they'd spoken, which was last night. _

_Her other hand reached out and she opened the door, quietly closing it behind her as she saw how the lights were off and she could see under the bottom bunk blankets a shape that looked distinctively Callie-shaped. As unobtrusively as possible, she moved to sit on the edge of the small mattress._

_Callie wasn't her girlfriend, technically. They'd gone on dates – out to dinner, to movies, to a club – and they'd stayed in and had more dinner and living room dancing nights. She really liked the way things were going with them; she really liked Callie. _

_As hesitant as she'd been to start anything with a newborn, she now believed that if she had stuck to her guns and not gone out with her, that she would be sorely missing out. Gently, she lifted her hand and brought it up to scoop some of that impossibly soft dark hair out of her face, behind her ear, her index finger running down the caramel skin of her cheek._

_No, Callie wasn't her girlfriend. But she was smart – obviously – and beautiful – obviously – and those two traits alone had been enough to initially attract her. And now she knew that the brunette was also funny, both intentionally and unintentionally, that she had an incredibly big heart and she wasn't afraid to stand up for what she believed in. _

_Arizona wasn't blind, she knew Callie had faults, too. But there was – so far – nothing that she would consider a deal breaker. Just small, normal faults that even sometimes could make her more endearing. _

_Just as she wondered exactly what to do, because she didn't want to wake Callie up, those dark eyes opened and that mouth widened in an adorable sleepy smile, her voice gravelly with sleep, "Hey, you came."_

_Chuckling a little bit, she kept her hand when it was, just shifting a little bit downwards so she was cupping her jaw, "Well, you did page. There could have been a medical emergency."_

_Callie yawned, "Nope. Just me, seeing that you didn't have any surgeries scheduled for the afternoon. And I also didn't have any surgeries scheduled for the afternoon." Her hand – Arizona hadn't even seen it move – came to rest on Arizona's inner thigh. _

_The blonde playfully narrowed her eyes, "Calliope Torres. Did you page me here for inappropriate, lascivious afternoon activities?"_

"_Haven't you ever heard of afternoon delight?" Callie smiled at her now, and Arizona briefly wondered how this woman could shift what she would call a cute, sleepy smile to a grin that screamed mischievous sexy in seconds._

_Callie's hand traced light patterns on her thigh, making heat shoot straight to her center, and for a few seconds, her eyes just watched that hand. Their first time had been almost two weeks ago, and Arizona wouldn't deny that she'd been undeniably impressed. Over the years, she'd been with many experienced lady lovers. Women who had been pleasing other women for years, who had indescribable skill. _

_It wasn't that she had thought Callie was going to be bad in bed, because she knew from their making out and heavy petting for the weeks prior that she did indeed have experience to behold. But she'd been expecting more timidity, maybe more nervousness. And she definitely hadn't been expecting her fingers and mouth to do the things to her body that they'd done. _

_All around, she was finding that Callie Torres was kind of like unwrapping a gift you thought was what you asked for, but once the wrappings were all torn off and you complete an inspection of the gift, you find that it's actually the deluxe model. And, as those hands tunneled into her hair, tugging her down, she went more than willingly. The deluxe model was absolutely super._

Her wife turned to face her and that drew her attention back from her memories of what had happened on that bottom bunk, making her almost jump from surprise. For some reason, the memory made her cheeks burn as her face flushed. They were here to talk about their possible divorce, and she was thinking about the first time they'd had sex in the hospital. _Really appropriate, Arizona._

Idly, her hands came to rest in front of her, fingertips tapping, as those dark eyes scanned over her, "You don't have anything for lunch."

"Hmm?" her eyebrows drew down in confusion, before she realized that this was supposed to be them meeting for lunch as they had their discussion, "Oh, I – just when I got to the cafeteria, I got your text about meeting here and I was already late…" she trailed off, about to deny her hunger when her stomach let out a quiet growl.

"I don't want you to starve," Callie said, and Arizona was positive she detected a playful lilt in her voice, and she walked to a chair she had pulled out, facing the bed, where she had a sandwich resting on the seat.

As Callie lowered herself to sit, taking the sandwich into her lap, Arizona moved to sit on that bottom bunk across from her, resting her hands with lightly sweaty palms against her thighs. Tan hands reached inside of the clear baggie, pulling out one of the halves, as a blonde eyebrow raised, "A sandwich?"

As Callie offered her the half, she reached out to take it, deliberately brushing their fingertips against one another, just so she could feel the way she buzzed to live at the touch. In their relationship, neither of them made sandwiches for lunch, but whatever Callie was going to offer her, she was going to take it.

And, as if her wife knew what she was thinking, she sighed, "Peanut butter and jelly. Sof didn't want me to make her one today; she wanted to make it herself. And she wanted to make me one."

Which explained why the bread was put together lopsidedly and some parts were gushing with jelly whereas other parts, Arizona was sure, was just bread. But her daughter had made her lunch today, she thought with a smile, "She woke up better?" As in, over the nightmare tantrum she'd thrown last night.

Callie nodded, the relief on her face evident, "Thankfully. We had a very snuggly morning."

She missed very snuggly mornings with her girls. Her stomach clenched just a bit, her mind reminding her that this afternoon could very well be the revealer of whether or not she was going to have snuggly mornings again.

Slowly, Callie nodded, as if she sensed the change in tone in the room as well, "All right. I, uh, I'd like to talk for a little bit. If that's okay."

"Absolutely," she said, those nerves sliding back into her stomach, while her index finger and thumb pinched lightly as the crust of the bread, whispering, "I just… want to say that I've really missed you."

The fact that Callie smiled slightly at the words made her heart jump a little bit, "I've missed you, too. Which might sound stupid, because I know I've been the one who cut off our contact. But," she took a deep breath, "Arizona, I was so confused. The first two months after you slept with Lauren, I was pretty positive that we were getting a divorce. I know we didn't officially sign the papers or anything. But with how betrayed I felt… I remember how I felt when George cheated on me. It was _horrible_ and I was so hurt. And angry. Then with you?"

Callie's mouth opened as if she was still searching for the right words, and she just shook her head, "After… I've never felt empty, before. Broken. I – waking up in the morning was hard for me. Breathing hurt. That's the best way to describe it, I think. Just breathing was painful."

Arizona bit her lip, "I'm sorry," the words slipped out of her mouth automatically, because she _was_. She didn't want to hear about how she'd broken Callie so much that even just breathing was difficult for her. Even though she'd known it was true, it wasn't easy to hear. And she didn't think it ever would be.

But unlike other times where they'd gone over this, now her wife shook her head, "I'm not… I don't need you apology, anymore. Because I fixed myself, mostly. With, god, gum and tape I think, I moved on with my life. And when I was sure we were going to get divorced, it was easier for me, when you started reaching out. I thought, we could co-parent Sofia, separately, and get along. And that was what we were going to be. Thinking that was what made it bearable for me to start letting you in again, solely as Sofia's other mother."

Brown eyes rolled up to the ceiling for a moment and Arizona thought about how up until she asked Callie out on a date again, her wife had been convinced they were getting a divorce. The idea wrapped around her heart and squeezed, hard. While the idea of divorce hadn't been real to her, it had been very much real to Callie.

"And then you asked me out on a date, and then all of the things that I didn't want to feel came back. I didn't want to want to kiss you again or want you again, because it's so… _confusing_. So even though I thought I'd only been letting you in as Sofia's other mother and maybe a friend, I realized that I really wasn't. And that I _did_ want you again – still – in my life, romantically. Which is why I said that we could start over. Because I thought we could start over and it would be like re-beginning our relationship," her hands picked at her scrub pants, while those dark eyes now stared at Arizona.

And she was just trying to piece in all of these thoughts and feelings that Callie had been happening and trying to slot them in with her own. She thought back to that disastrous barely-date a month ago and shook her head, "But we couldn't just re-begin."

That dark head shook in agreement, "No. And at that point, I just… I was already starting to trust you again because I could tell that you were different. Even before you told me about how you were in therapy, I could _see_ that you were different. Which made me trust you, while still feeling betrayed by you. And I wanted you back romantically, while still imagining you with Lauren. I wanted to start over while still keeping all of our old good memories, because despite all of the bad things, we had so many good things, too. Everything was so conflicting. And that's when I started to see Dr. Walker."

Arizona was having trouble sensing the vibe she was getting from Callie; even though everything told her it was good, there was still that part of her stomach yelling at her to not get her hopes up. Even though Walker was a miracle worker.

As Callie leaned forward a bit in her seat, she finished, "And we talked mostly about honesty; being honest with myself and just asking me questions and giving her – and myself – honest answers. That helped a lot, to just lay everything out on the table. I'm not going to go through all of our sessions for you, but the main points we got to were: am I still upset about you sleeping with Lauren, with you saying the things you said to me that night? Yes, I think I'll always feel like I want to throw up thinking about that. But… after our conversations – you and I – and talking to her… I, um, understand. I _know_ that you regret it and that you wish things hadn't gotten that far, and," Callie licked her lips, taking in a deep breath as she looked straight at Arizona, the intensity in her eyes burning, "I forgive you."

Her heart leapt into her throat and her hands clamped tightly together, her eyes flashing quickly to Callie's, latching on. Somehow, she hadn't expected those words. She didn't expect Callie to say them and she didn't expect to feel the way she felt upon hearing them. Her throat felt like it was constricting, while her eyes filled with tears. She didn't fully understand why, but as she brought her hands up, roughly swiping at her eyes, she tried to take in a deep breath and calm herself down, but she couldn't.

She'd begged Callie to move on or start over, but never for her forgiveness. How could she, when Arizona couldn't even forgive herself? Somehow, the relief she felt in her chest – so much lighter – didn't make her feel smiley and happy, and she the tears she was desperately trying to keep at bay came more intensely.

Keeping her hands over her face, she tried to take in a deep breath and use it to say – something, anything – but all it did was break on a small whimper. In response to Callie's quiet, "Arizona?" all she could do was shake her head. She didn't even know what was wrong with herself.

And then the bed next to her dipped and before she could look up, she felt one of her wife's arms wrap around her back and the other come up and rest in her hair, urging her face against her neck, "It's okay."

The words and the hug didn't soothe her. Or maybe they did. She didn't know; she did know that her body froze at this contact, at being held by Callie in a way that she'd wished for a thousand times, but after barely a second, her own arms banded around her wife, holding tightly around her and fisting into her shirt and holding, as her face found it's way to press against her neck, trying to inhale even as she sniffled.

The only words she was able to force out were, "I'm sorry. I – I'm… sorry."

The hand that moved down her side in a gentle rub made goose bumps pop up on her skin, and this time when Callie repeated, "I forgive you," low in her ear, her tears slowly dripped from her eyes and she shook her head, even as the hand in her hair lightly stroked, as Callie whispered, "And you have to forgive yourself."

She didn't know how long they sat there, but she gladly would have stayed for as long as it took to make up for the last five months. If she thought she missed the kissing – and she definitely had – this was… even better. But as she breathed normally again, it was Callie who pulled away, but didn't move back to sit in her chair, still sitting right next to her on the bed, her hand still on Arizona's back for another moment before dropping, "That being said… I don't feel conflicted anymore. I want to move on with you; I want us again. If that's what you still want."

Nodding, she brought her hands up to her eyes again, trying to wipe away the tears that she still didn't quite understand, "I do. I really, really do."

"Okay, good," she took a deep breath and flashed that big smile, and the sight of it, disarmed her. "I… Dr. Walker suggested that we try to do something together. Work on something together, to try to find a groove, before we do anything else. I was thinking we could work on throwing Sof a birthday party?"

Arizona found herself nodding. God, she didn't care what they did; whatever it was would be awesome. She would see to that.

* * *

So they worked on throwing their three-year-old a party she would love. Her particular favorite moment had been when they'd gone to find Sofia a rocking horse she desperately wanted as her present, as she was getting into a horsey phase.

"_Of course, our daughter wants the one toy that is impossible to find at every store in the mall," Callie grumbled, her voice low and angry, "And that clerk – what was that? He was laughing at us."_

_Arizona couldn't help but laugh, "He was not," and even as her laughter faded, she turned her head slightly to smile at her, watching Callie reach her hands up and tie her hair back into a ponytail, her anger still evident in her expression._

_It was the first time that they've gone out together and the fact that they were being referred to as "us" from her wife just made the space around her heart warm and flutter. Callie's hands fell back down to her sides as she huffed out a breath, "We could always go to that store downtown? They might have it."_

_Arizona pictured the cutesy boutique that she'd found when Callie had been pregnant. The storefront curtains had lace ruffles and Callie disliked the place immediately. "Yeah, they might have it," her voice was quiet as she ran her eyes down Callie's side until they landed on her hand as it swung lightly at her side._

_Her own hand itched as though it had a mind of it's own, and before she did anything, her fingers flexed lightly into a fist, then unclenched. All right, she was just going to do it. Slowly, she reached out her extended fingers, watching out of the corner of her eye as her finger tips lightly made contact with the palm of her hand, then slid down to interlock fingers._

"_Is this okay?" the words fell from her lips ever as her hand tingled from feeling Callie's soft one pressed against it. They hadn't touched, more than fleeting touches, since that hug, even though Callie had admitted that she didn't hate the thought of Arizona's hands on her anymore; she was just trying to reintroduce this aspect of their relationship slowly._

_As they continued walking, she turned her head to look down at where their hands touched, the smile on her face widening as her wife gently moved her thumb back and forth, "Yeah. This is nice."_

She just loved thinking of how much that had meant about them getting back to a good place, and how they'd both taken that as the barrier breaking to other casual touching. They'd also taken to having dinner together every night that they were both able to, and it was great for both them, and Sofia, who had definitely noticed the change in relationship among her moms again.

As she sat up on the couch to finally take off her prosthetic, she heard Callie come out of Sofia's room. That was something else that had happened; Callie now had started to come back into their old home, though she still lived and slept at her apartment. Just seeing her wife walk out of their daughter's bedroom, a small smile playing on her lips, made Arizona's stomach flip.

She sat on the couch, her proximity to Arizona deliciously close as she could feel her body warmth, as Callie turned to face her, "She passed right out. Fell asleep before I even finished zipping up her pajamas."

Smiling at her, she rested her head against the cushion behind her, "Good. This was an exciting day for her."

Her smile turned to a grimace as she reached down to her leg, gingerly touching where it was swollen on the end. Callie's warm hand fell on her shoulder, and as blue eyes turned to look at her, her wife lifted an eyebrow, "Do… you want me to?"

Her heart started to race while her face flushed, just remembering how amazing her wife's hands had felt on her leg, nearly six months ago, "If you don't mind."

"I don't," she grinned, then moved her hands down, and as soon as they started working over her leg, Arizona couldn't stop the relieved sigh that left her mouth as her eyes fluttered closed.

"Thank you," she whispered, and she wished the feeling would never end.

And Callie's knowledgeable hands didn't stop, "You're welcome." A few more seconds went by before she said, "So, I've been thinking. Maybe we can go see Dr. Walker together?"

* * *

**Please let me know what you think! Your responses so far have been amazing. Thank you for reading!**


	13. Finally

Dr. Walker, hands folded in front of her leaned forward in her chair to face them, "Are you both ready to begin?"

Shifting her gaze from the therapist, Arizona bit her lip and looked over at Callie, who was sitting in a second chair in the therapist's office. She thought it was interesting that her wife automatically moved to sit in the chair on the right, whereas she herself had _always_ gone to sit on the chair on the left.

Brown eyes caught hers, and Callie sent her a small smile that reassured nerves that she didn't even realize she'd had. There was absolutely no reason at all to be nervous; this really couldn't do anything but help them on their already healing path they were on.

Turning her head back to Dr. Walker, she took a deep breath and nodded, "I am."

Callie cleared her throat, "Me, too."

The therapist nodded, "All right. After talking extensively with both of you in the last few months, no matter what else might be between you two, I've seen a tremendous amount of love and devotion to each other and your marriage. Which can only bring you so far, given your main problem: communication. Something I like to do when I have couples in my office is a session called laying it on the table, where both of you will speak honestly about what you want from one another. During this time, I will primarily serve as a facilitator unless it's necessary for me to step in. Does that sound like something you two might be interested in?"

What she wanted… what she wanted from Callie. All she had been thinking about was that she wanted her wife again; she hadn't once given any thought of what she had wanted _from_ her. In a sense, she really hadn't believed she had the right to be asking for things from Callie, because she'd left their getting back together mostly on her ground.

She wanted…

She _wanted_. She wanted when felt like many things; everything from her wife. Her tongue felt thick and heavy with the words that she hadn't quite formulated yet and she found herself nodding, "I think that sounds good."

Looking at Callie, she found dark eyes flickering between both Walker and Arizona and her bottom lip trapped between her teeth, before she sat back in her chair, "I think so, too."

With that, the therapist opened her hands as if to tell them that the floor was theirs. Arizona wondered how to start; how do you just jump into making demands from someone that you just found level footing with?

"I, uh," Callie started, then cleared her throat, "I want to know that you're going to talk to me. Like, really talk to me."

Turning as much as she could in her chair to face her wife, her eyebrows drew down in confusion, "I do –" then her eyes closed as she remembered the pent up anger and resentment and whatever else had been in that maelstrom of emotions she'd tried to bottle up. And then how that bottle had blown open, which was what led to all of this in the first place.

One look at Callie's face, and she knew that was on her mind, too.

Putting her hands on her thighs, she ran them up and down lightly, "I – I never want to be back in that place that I was a few months ago, either. Keeping all of that in was…" trailing off, her eyes found the floor while she tried to search for the right way to express the way she'd felt in the aftermath. But the words escaped her, "It was horrible. And I swear, _that_ will never happen again."

When she looked back up at Callie, she was shaking her head, "That's not… I mean, that is a part of what I meant. But it's more than just that; even before the plane, you didn't. How many times does it take until we're fighting, until we're at a breaking point, for you to tell me what's really running through your mind?"

Those dark eyes bore into hers, and it was like she was hearing every fight they'd had over in her head. Their breakup over having kids was over a year after they'd been together, and that was the first time she ever told Callie that she couldn't quite bring herself to trust her. And all of the problems she had when she'd come back from Africa, all of the doubts she'd had about Callie's commitment to only being with her… only came out when they were yelling at each other before the car crashed.

Even some smaller things, like when they'd first moved in together and she'd noticed things that Callie did that just bothered her. But she kept them in until they would get into little, sniping arguments – ones that quickly faded, but nonetheless.

Clearing her throat, she shook her head, and her voice was quieter than she intended, "I just… that's the way I am. I hold in the bad things because I'm… I should be able to just handle them." It was the way she was raised. Don't complain. Compartmentalize the bad things and shoulder as much as you can without having to burden someone else with it. That was part of being a good man in a storm – you take as much as you possibly can onto your own shoulders.

But Callie was shaking her head, "I don't want you to try to handle things without telling me. I wa – _need_ you to tell me them. I don't need you to be the strong one in our relationship; I need you to let me be there."

She… could do that. She _had_ done that, "I know that happens for some things, but there are other times that I have let you in and then they just backfire." Before Callie could question it, all she could hear in her own head was herself practically begging Callie not to run, months ago, "You… said you wouldn't leave. _I_ want you to promise to not leave, again."

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she made herself turn to look at her wife, whose mouth was hanging out, "_I_ leave? You leave!"

Now Walker's voice shot out, "This isn't an argument; it's a discussion. Let's keep it that way."

Callie's eyes closed tightly before they reopened, her eyebrows drawn down, "You leave, Arizona," she repeated, this time quietly.

The last six months ran through her mind. Of Callie packing her suitcase and leaving their apartment, of her running away whenever something happened that she wasn't quite ready for, and she shook her head, "I know that you moving out and even taking time away from me when you needed it was for the best. But… in the future, I need you to not just walk away. When you feel like you need time, I – you can't just walk away," she finished quietly.

She couldn't go through another moment in time where Callie packed that suitcase and left. Not again.

The Callie's fingers laced together, then separated to rub at her forehead, "You didn't physically leave me, after the crash. But emotionally. Mentally. You did. And I need you not to just shut down to me."

So they both had their own ways of walking away, of bailing and hurting each other. And they both hurt, badly. "I don't want to," she admitted.

"I don't want to walk away, either," Callie's voice was low again, and had this husky tone that it took on when she was upset.

Looking up at her wife's face, her fingers ran over the fabric of her scrub pants before coming together, "So, no leaving. Not anymore. In any way."

Callie nodded, "Right," and as she did, her hand drifted down from the arm of the chair and fell in a way that it was like she was offering it out to her.

Her own fell between the chairs and reached for it, and their fingers laced in such a familiar way that they'd reacquainted themselves with in the last few weeks. As Callie's thumb traced a light pattern into the back of her hand, she sighed, "I want us to reconnect again." As she swallowed hard, she added on, "And I need to know that my hands don't make you think about Lauren's, anymore."

Her wife lifted their intertwined fingers holding them up between them, "I don't. I just feel you."

_Three weeks later_

_Her breathing was already laboring in and out of her lungs, and it was all because Callie's lips were on her neck, pressing into a barely there touch on the spot on her neck, right under her ear that always made her aroused. And even though it hadn't been touched in over six months, she found that Callie still knew exactly where it was and that it still worked._

_Her head fell back with a surprised groan as teeth grazed it, and her hands lifted almost of their own accord, going in the direction of her wife's chest – just barely grazing the tops of her breasts through her shirt – before they clenched tightly into fists, "Is this okay?"_

"_Yes," Callie breathed out against her throat, her mouth shifting, moving downwards, pressing open mouthed kisses on the column of her neck before pausing against her and letting out a low moan that Arizona was sure was a sound that only her wife could make._

_They were on her bed in her apartment, after just returning from a date. For the last few weeks, they'd turned Monday and Thursday nights into date nights. And date nights had also turned into overnights, usually at her apartment. But they hadn't – her whimper broke through the room as Callie's hands slipped under the bottom of her shirt and as her wife's mouth lifted and she knew Callie was going to ask permission, she just nodded quickly, "Yes, yes, it's okay," – they hadn't had sex. _

_They were trying to get onto a deeper level before they reintroduced sex into their lives. Arizona was positive that if they stopped right now, tonight, she was going to explode. Callie's forehead pressed into her shoulder, her hand coming to palm Arizona through her bra just as the blonde's hand found a hard nipple. _

_God, she had missed this. Then, as Callie's other hand pressed under her, sliding under her butt and gripping it as her palm moved in a circle, she cried out. She'd missed __this__ even more. _

_Her hands moved away from Callie's breasts, outwards, grasping at the material of her shirt and tugging, and then her wife mirrored the movement. Blue eyes latched onto the her heaving chest and she was pretty positive her mouth watered at the sight before she shook her head and looked into those dark eyes, "If – if you're not ready, we should probably stop. Because I…" wanted to devour her whole._

_Callie shook her head quickly, "No, I – if you're positive that you're ready for this, then I am. Absolutely sure."_

_It had been over six months since they'd had sex and her body was positively screaming for Callie. And it was an even better feeling that it had been before everything had happened between them. Because she didn't have these little doubts running through her head, and her eyes fell to the sheets between them for a second, "I… before, a part of me kept thinking that you were staying with me out of obligation, because I wasn't – whole. And even when you told me that I was still beautiful… I felt like you were saying it because you had to."_

_Callie shifted, and brought her hand up to Arizona's cheek, making her look back up, "Arizona, you have never been anything but whole and beautiful to me."_

_The best thing was, Arizona believed her now, "I know. And I know that I'm so, so sure that I want to do this tonight. Maybe even more than once."_

_She just saw the flash of Callie's smile as her lips descended and crashed back down to Arizona's, mouths opening simultaneously, and she thought she could die happy as long as she had Callie's taste in her mouth, as their hips rocked against each other's, hands tracing over skin. _

_She shivered as Callie's fingers ran lightly over her skin at her waist, right above her pants, and she pulled back, disconnecting their mouths, panting, "Not slow. Not this time. Next time. Is that –"_

_Callie groaned, "Yes," and Arizona didn't know how it happened so fast, but both of their pants were gone in seconds, as was her prosthetic._

_And her wife's hand massaged against her leg after she took it off, and the feeling made her fall onto her back on the sheets. Her first reaction wasn't to flinch away, and that was just… the best feeling. Then Callie's hand moved to cup her center, and her eyes rolled back – no, that was the best feeling._

_Six months. Six months, she thought as those talented fingers slid through her wetness. This was not going to take long, at all. As her heart pounded in her chest, she panted, "You, up here," because her fingers were itching to feel her wife the way she was feeling her. _

_Callie was above her again, her hand still between Arizona's legs. As she brought her mouth back to Arizona's neck, she managed to slip her own hand between them, and into her wife. Their rhythm was frantic, backed by hips and thighs as thumbs rubbed at clits in fast circles, and when she felt like she was going to fall over the edge, she brought her hand up and fisted in dark hair, making those full lips stop working magic on her neck and to look at her._

_Brown eyes were nearly black and she could feel Callie's breath shudder over her face, and all it took was for her to moan out, "Arizona," before her orgasm hit her, toes curling as, "Calliope!" fell from her lips. _

_Callie fell into her own release moments later, then her body melted down on top of hers. As she felt her wife's heart beat against her own chest, she heard her murmur, "Calliope?"_

_A smile spread across her own lips, as she stroked her hands down her back, "Yes. Calliope."_

Arizona closed her eyes, then reopened them quickly, "I want to be married, again. I want… our marriage. Really, married."

Callie's relieved sigh reached her ears, "Yes."

_Two days later_

"_I thought you said you wanted to be married again?" Callie asked, her hands on her hips, eyebrow arched._

_Running her hand through her hair, her eyes focused on her wedding ring on the kitchen table. Only minutes ago had they both thrown out the divorce papers together, at the same time. And then Arizona had taken the wedding ring that she'd put on her wife's finger almost three years ago, and slid it back on. _

_But now she balked at the idea of hers, "I do! And I want to wear a ring to symbolize it, but… maybe not that ring." As her heart pounded, all she could think about was that night, and that look on Callie's face, "That ring is just… it's a constant reminder of that night. You don't know how you looked when you saw it pinned to the top, but I do."_

_Callie was quiet for a few moments, "Maybe I don't know what I looked like, Arizona, but I know what I felt like."_

_Her eyebrows drew down, "And you still want me to wear it? It just has those… bad memories."_

_But Callie refused, "Arizona, no. These rings have been with us through the bad things and that's the point! I'm going to put on this ring and I want you to wear that ring because these are the rings we wore when we got married. Our marriage is… these rings are through the good and the bad times. We went through a bad time. But we also worked through it." She reached toward the table and picked the ring up in her fingers, slowly rolling it, "We've been through a lot. And we just don't get to come out of it shiny and new. Neither do our rings." Her hand reached down to toy with Arizona's fingers, but she didn't slide the ring on. Instead, she slowly lowered her hand, "But if you don't want this ring, then I'm not going to force you; we can go find new ones. For both of us."_

_Arizona flipped her hand over to grasp her fingers at Callie's, "No, wait." Her other hand reached down to take her wife's so that she could look at the ring, too. It might have been the catalyst to revealing her infidelity, but it was also… their wedding vows. And in their family photos with Sofia. Their marriage was a journey, and she lifted her hand up, offering it to her wife, "I want it."_

_Just as Callie slid it on, her eyes focused on the necklace that she'd clasped behind the brunette's neck right before they'd gotten on the discussion of rings, and she was wearing her own. This was a good thing. _

_And when the ring came to settle in it's place on her finger, it didn't feel like an entrapment, the way it sometimes had after the crash. It felt… good._

As Callie's hand tightened around hers, she said, "But I also want… some changes."

Arizona's mind started to scramble, searching for what Callie might mean by those changes, "Like what?"

"I just think that it's time that we move forward, in some areas," she said, taking a deep breath before she started to explain.

_Four months later_

_Sweating, exhausted, and muscles a little sore, Arizona fell next to Callie onto the couch, letting her head fall onto her shoulder as a pretend cry escaped through her lips, "If I never see another moving box again in my life, I will die happy."_

_Callie groaned as she lifted her arm, then dropped it around the blonde's shoulders, "Luckily, I don't foresee us having to move again aaanytime in the near future."_

_They were surrounded by boxes, most of them having been opened and partially unpacked, but the only room they had completely prepared was Sofia's. Their daughter, after all of the excitement of moving day – moving to her new bigger room with her new walls that were painted, much to Callie's chagrin, pink – had played with exactly one toy in her new room before falling asleep._

_And then they had spent the rest of the night going through boxes. But it was very ambitious of them to believe they could get done as much as they wanted to get done. They'd started house hunting months ago, and as luck would have it, they found this one in the beginning of their search._

_The previous owners were anxious to move to the east coast where their son lived with their new grandchild, so the process had gone extremely smoothly. It was a two story, with bigger bedrooms for them and Sofia, with a third bedroom as well. The downstairs was spacious with archways between the living room, dining room, and kitchen. _

_This had been part of "the dream" – buy a big house. But then… the breakup had happened, and then Africa had happened, and then the car accident, and then the plane crash. But Callie had been absolutely correct: they'd outgrown their apartment. Individually and together, and it was also time to move on and away from Mark's old place, too._

_And now Sof had a yard to run around in, and they'd already bought a swing set that was going to be delivered next week. This was their home, the house that they'd bought together to begin the new chapter of their life. _

Now they sat in their chairs, looking at one another with small grins on their faces, and Arizona felt so… light. Because it seemed that what they wanted were the same things. They wanted things that they could do together.

Then Callie gently squeezed her hand and looked just past Arizona's shoulder before she said, "I think… in order to do any of this, that I need to know that you are truly over me making the call to cut off your leg."

As she nodded, words left her mouth before she had even really processed them, "And I need to know that you won't use Lauren against me."

They stared at each other for a few seconds and Arizona could feel her heart hammering in her chest. She hadn't fully meant to say the words, but they were true. She knew Callie forgave her for sleeping with Lauren; she knew that there was no way those words would have left her wife's mouth if she didn't mean them. But just because she wanted to be back with Callie and they were both making these strides now didn't mean that she thought they weren't bound to have fights in the future.

Just like she knew that when they fought, their tensions ran high and they could both say things that they sometimes didn't mean. But she couldn't have her infidelity thrown back in her face; she didn't think she could handle it.

It was Callie who spoke first, only breaking their eye contact for just a second as she closed her eyes the way she did when she was searching for words, "I won't use your infidelity against you. I don't… want to bring it up ever."

Her eyes snapped to Callie's dark ones, holding, "I… that's something I need you to promise. I need us to move on from that."

"Just like I need you to promise you'll never bring up your leg. You said you've forgiven it; gotten over it," she said, her voice quiet but her fingers still holding on, which made Arizona glad, "I can promise to leave behind your infidelity if you can promise me this."

She found herself nodding, "Yes." Because she had forgiven Callie and she didn't look at her leg and hate herself or her life or anyone else, now. "So, those two topics are just off limits."

Dr. Walker tapped her fingers lightly on the desk, which somehow still drew both of their attention, "All right," apparently it was her time to step in, "What I'm noticing here is that most of what you two _both_ want is the same. You both want to move forward in your relationship, as partners on equal ground again. Would you say this is accurate?"

Arizona dug her fingers into her thighs once more, taking in a deep breath before relaxing and moving her hands up to the arm rests on either side of her, "Yes. For me, that's what I want."

Hearing Callie shift in her chair, blue eyes turned to face her, just in time to see her nod. Her wife's voice was low as she agreed, "Me too. I want to be a family again."

_Six months later_

_Arizona was exhausted. As she shut and locked the front door behind her, she stopped at the hallway closet and took off her jacket then put her bag on the low shelves they'd had installed there. _

_Instead of turning to go upstairs, where she assumed Callie would be, because it was hours after Sofia's bedtime and she liked to watch movies late at night in their bed, she went to the kitchen to find leftovers that her wife had made for dinner. Today had just been a long day at the hospital. Such a long, long day. And she was starving and her leg was a little sore – maybe she'd ask Callie for a massage, she thought idly, as she flicked on the light to the kitchen._

_Then jumped back, hand over her heart as she saw Callie already sitting at the counter, "Calliope! What – god, you gave me a heart attack."_

_Callie's low laugh floated up to her ears, "I'm sorry. I was waiting for you." She pushed a glass of wine across the counter in Arizona's direction._

_As she started walking over to take it, she asked, "Well? How was it? How was Sof's big day?"_

_That morning, before her shift had started at the hospital, she and Callie and brought their daughter for her first day in preschool. It was a private school, which they'd both agreed on, as Callie had gone to private schools her whole life and Arizona had gone to schools on military posts. _

_She had found Callie's nerves in dropping their daughter off adorable, and she'd smiled at her over Sofia's head as she little girl pulled them along excitedly into the building, mouthing, "Don't worry."_

_They'd discussed this weeks in advance, when her wife had first shared her nerves over dropping Sofia off. Arizona had tried to remind Callie that they dropped Sofia off in daycare every day; this really wasn't that different. But then Callie had paced back and forth in their bedroom and told her that when Sofia was in daycare in the hospital, they could go see her whenever they wanted, any time of day. _

_This school was closer to their house than to the hospital – even so, it was less than a twenty minute drive either way – and Arizona had tried to assure her of that. And that no matter what happened, if something did happen to Sofia at the school, they would call them._

_Her assurances didn't work, and Callie was still adorably nervous. _

_Then, as they'd helped Sofia put her oversized backpack and raincoat into the cubby with her name on it and talked to the teacher, Arizona also felt a little resistant to leave. She might have been a few minutes late for her shift by the time she and Callie had managed to pull themselves and each other away._

_Callie gave her a huge smile, "I picked her up right on time and she didn't even want to come home; she had the best day."_

_With a small frown, she took a sip of wine, "I'm mad that I missed it." After another sip, she put the glass down, "I wanted to hear all of her stories! I might just go peek in on her real quick," but before she could start to leave the kitchen, Callie got off the stool she was sitting on, and tan arms wrapped around her waist._

_Then she turned them to face the direction of the fridge, and Callie whispered into her ear, "This is what Sof did today."_

_And Arizona's heart melted. She of course had received drawings from many, many children over the years. The thank-you drawings and cards all held a special place in her heart. But her daughter's drawings were just that much more special. _

_Stuck with alphabet magnets low on the refrigerator was a piece of white paper, with large, extremely messy handwriting that read MY FAMLEE across the top. There were three stick figures, easily recognizable despite their daughter's age, as Callie was drawn with her dark hair and brown eyes, and so was Sofia. And in between her stick figure daughter and wife, was the blonde stick figure with blue eyes and dots that served as dimples on her cheeks, holding both of their hands._

_They were a real, whole, healed family. Finally. _

* * *

**Please let me know what you thought! This was the last chapter of Fractured, and I'm so, so glad that so many people enjoyed the story. After the finale, I needed to write something healing for myself and I'm grateful for how many people went on this journey with me!  
**


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